


Unlimited Streaming

by fujisaki_chii



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bathroom Sex, Blow Jobs, Creampie, Lingerie, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Parental Death, Praise Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Suicide Attempt Mention, Teasing, Toys, Violence, abuse mention, and there it is the big angst tag, camboy au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2018-09-19 04:44:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9419318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fujisaki_chii/pseuds/fujisaki_chii
Summary: Shuuichi Saihara is stressed and invests in something to help him unwind.  A boy smirks at him from the other side of a camera.





	1. Young and Menace

**Author's Note:**

> First time posting smut... Whoo. Anyway, this fic is probably going to be a few parts long.

Shuuchi Saihara was not the kind of person to traverse porn sites. At least, that’s what he told himself as he browsed through the endless amount of videos pulled up on his desktop, clad in only boxers and a thin t-shirt. He had decided to take a break from school work, which basically meant he was going to jerk off until he was exhausted and fall asleep feeling much more satisfied than he probably should with himself. Unfortunately, none of the many, colorful thumbnails was piquing his interest. As he scrolled, an ad blared on the side of the screen, advertising live webcam models.

_For only $20.00 a month, you get endless screening!_

It was tempting. Way, way too tempting. Certainly, Saihara was not the kind of person to take part in anything of that nature. At least, that’s what he told himself as he clicked the colorful pop-up and entered his credit card information. After the deed was done, he only had to wait a few moments to be connected to someone. A real, actual person who would be entirely naked in front of him in real time. He swallowed the lump in his throat, realizing that his nerves were getting the better of him. It was no big deal, just some stranger. They wouldn’t even know he was there.

Finally, the screen switched on to a video feed, and Saihara was surprised to see that the camera was entirely devoid of life. Soft, lavender bed sheets covered a rather plush looking bed, the only lighting in the video coming from a soft string of fairy lights spanning the wall. There was a chatbox below where several people were chattering about what appeared to be nothing in general, just some exchanged greetings and excited talk about what was in store on the stream tonight.

_Cockslut9284 said: Hey, saishuu1998, never seen you here before!_

Someone with the pen name “cockslut9284” had just welcomed him to what was essentially a massive group orgy where no one ever touched. Though the name wasn’t elegant, it would be rude not to respond.

_saishuu1998 said: First time._

_Cockslut9284 said: Welcome! You’re going to love him, I’ve been a regular on the stream for awhile._

Saihara was curious as to where this mysterious person was, but didn’t have to wonder too much longer; the soft, steady hum of music was starting to play on camera and the chat room was suddenly alive with greetings and the occasional lewd remark.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!” the voice was lilting, and surprisingly easy on the ears. Saihara wasn’t sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t the strange ambiance. Porn had never felt so personal, and he was conflicted as to whether or not the $20 was worth it. The doubt evaporated when someone appeared on the screen; Saihara’s breath caught in his throat. A boy had situated himself on the bed, leaning up against the headboard with a gentle smile playing on his lips. He was thin and pale, all soft curves and long legs. He was wearing a dark blue slip with underwear to match, and Saihara had never thought this kind of thing would turn him on, but damn if he wasn’t already half hard. The stranger’s plum-colored hair framed his face, barely touching his shoulders and accentuating the gentler angles of his face. There’s no way that’s his natural color.

“I hope all of you had a good day,” he drawled, idly twirling a lock of hair, watching as the chat room went wild yet again. The boy’s eyes scanned the lines of text, pausing for a moment, eyebrows screwing up in concentration. “Do we have someone new today?”

Saihara stayed silent, gripping his own bed sheets in anxiety. Unfortunately, his new friend had decided to lend a hand.

_Cockslut9284 said: yeah! saishuu1998 is the name_

The boy blinked once, twice, and then smiled again, giving a little wave into the camera. Saihara felt like he was locking eyes with the boy on the camera, and despite the nervousness he felt, it was not doing his dick any favors.

“Well then, welcome! The name’s Kichi. I really do hope you enjoy. I always like to put out my best effort,” the boy shifted to his knees, nimble fingers sliding down one of the thin straps on his slip, “This performance goes out to you.” Saihara could feel himself heating up, cock twitching in his boxers as the boy removed the slip from over his head, leaving only his panties on. The boy gave a little giggle and ran his hands from his neck to down past his collarbones, down the slope of his chest, stopping momentarily to trace one of his nipples, visibly trembling at the sensation. Saihara’s own hand subconsciously wandered to the hardness in his boxers, mesmerized.

Kichi’s fingers wandered lower, past his hips to gently trace the outline of his own cock straining against the fabric of his panties, a moan escaping his lips. The sound went straight to Saihara’s groin. After a few moments of teasing, Kichi slipped the article off, leaving him entirely bare to his audience who showed their approval in the group chat. He took himself into his hand, giving his cock a few languid strokes. Saihara couldn’t keep his eyes off him, stroking himself in time with the boy on the screen, imagining that his own hand was Kichi’s, what it would feel like to have such nimble fingers pleasure him. Kichi stopped for a moment, reaching over off-screen and coming back with a bottle of lubricant and what looked like some kind of colorful vibrator that made Saihara shiver. It was big. Kichi gave a little smirk and poured some of the lube onto his fingers, repositioning himself against the headboard, giving the camera a full glance at his lower half. He tentatively circled his entrance, gasping and shuddering, before dipping a finger inside himself. Saihara let out a gasp of his own, thinking about how warm the other boy must be.

One finger quickly turned to two, which turned to three, and soon Kichi was fucking himself down on his fingers with zeal, his moans and pants coming over Saihara’s speakers with crystal-clear clarity. Saihara had minimal actual experience when it came to sex and this was certainly a situation he had never been faced with, but god if he didn’t love it. Finally, Kichi let his fingers slip out of himself, flashing a grin to the camera. His eyes were dark with lust, framed by his feathery lashes. Kichi reached for the toy at his side, coating it with a fair amount of lube before circling it around his entrance again, biting at his lip. Finally, he let it penetrate himself, jaw falling open and head swinging back as the head of it slipped in with ease. A moan sounded over the speakers and Saihara moaned in return, trying to imagine that being his cock slipping inside the boy, feeling the tightness of him. The entire toy went in with no problem, and Kichi shifted positions again once it was in all the way, lying on his side and lifting his leg, giving a full view of his body as he began to work the toy in and out of him. With a flip of a switch, the vibrator sprang to life and an obscene sound echoed through the speakers yet again. Saihara almost came right then, bucking his hips up into his hand, focusing hard on the breathy gasps and noises the other boy was making.

“I’m so full,” the boy whined, working the toy faster, other hand holding onto the bed sheets for dear life. Saihara could feel his orgasm quickly approaching, biting his lip in concentration. “I love your cock, it feels _so good_! Harder, _please_!” Kichi was getting close now, face twisted up in bliss, nearly screaming in pleasure. Saihara forgot entirely about the fact that there were possibly several hundred other people watching. All he could focus on was the boy; the sounds he made, the rocking of his hips, the white-hot pleasure coursing through his veins as he watched Kichi unravel in front of him. Finally, Kichi’s hand came up to cover his mouth, entire body tensing as he came across his own stomach, watery eyes clouded with satisfaction. Saihara came only a moment later, emptying himself in his hand, panting and trying to regain the breath that was knocked from his lungs. After a few moments, Kichi stirred again, pulling the vibrator out of him and stretching his limbs out, turning to rest his head on his hands and look blissfully into the camera, that same playful smirk plastered on his face again.

“Was that okay?” It was more like a statement than a question, but his faithful chat room lit up again with praise. Kichi let out a breathy giggle, satisfied with the response. “I certainly hope you enjoyed it, newbie. Next time I’ll have something else planned.” With a wave, the video feed cut off and Saihara was left reeling, complacent with his $20 decision.


	2. Heaven's Gate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saihara decides to do some shopping.

Since the first night, Saihara’s visits to Kichi’s stream had become more frequent. It started out as just once every few weeks, but grew into a sort of weekly ritual. Nothing could get him going quite as much as Kichi could, and he had realized that after many failed attempts at getting himself off any other way. There was something exciting about someone doing what he did in front of a live audience. It was thrilling. Not to mention Kichi was always open to new ideas and suggestions; he never did the same thing twice. One night he had edged himself for four hours, running a small bullet vibrator up his length while casually talking about his day as if it was a thing people did all the time. One night he gagged himself and rode one of his toys, his sounds coming muffled through the speakers. One night he simply stroked himself while talking about his fantasies; what he wanted done to him, where he wanted to be touched. Saihara found himself taking mental notes even though he was never going to use them.

One morning after his stream, Saihara had been extra productive and decided to run to the grocery store a little early in the week. The local store had been closed for the past few weeks for renovations, so Saihara found himself on a bus leading about thirty minutes out from his home to the closest market he could find. It was unfamiliar, but it didn’t take him long to find everything on his list and haul it up to the checkout counter. He was stuck behind some old lady who was rambling on to the cashier, and suddenly he felt a pang of sympathy for the poor guy. A song he didn’t recognize was playing over the loudspeaker, and he could hear humming up ahead. Saihara peeked ahead of him to find the perpetrator and his heart all but stopped in his chest.

It was _him_. Kichi was standing at the front of the checkout counter, humming and bagging up the items on the conveyor belt, a smile just barely playing at his lips as he listened to the old lady talk about her day. Saihara blinked, hoping maybe Kichi would disappear if he blinked hard enough to no avail. He had tied his dark hair up in a little ponytail and Saihara could feel his face heat up. Saihara was just getting ready to move to a new line when the lady wheeled her cart out of the row, leaving him up next.

Kichi looked at him and smiled. Saihara felt woozy, but hesitantly made his way up to the counter, keeping his head down low.

”How are you doing today?” Kichi’s voice sounded even sweeter in person.

”Fine,” Saihara responded curtly, not wanting to look him in the eyes. He had seen this guy naked. He had seen his cock flushed against his chest, his gaze clouded with lust as he dipped his fingers inside himself, _his entire body twitch and spasm as he penetrated himself, the way his head lolled back just as he was about to come-_

”Cash or card?” Kichi had interrupted his thought process, a concerned look on his face. Saihara simply handed him the cash and returned his gaze to the floor. Kichi gave back his change and handed him his bags. “Well, then… I hope you have a nice day.”

”Yeah, you too, Kichi.”

Saihara froze. It felt like the entire world had stopped spinning for a moment. The beeping of the checkout guns stopped sounding, the unfamiliar music stopped playing. Saihara wanted to run but couldn’t will his feet to move. Kichi’s eyes were wide, and for a moment Saihara wasn’t sure what he would do. He had watched him masturbate, after all. What is the proper reaction for that? But, as fate would have it, Kichi’s face broke out into a big smile. Finally Saihara’s legs were able to function again and he made a beeline for the exit.

”Whoa, hey! Wait, don’t leave!” Kichi dashed after him from behind his register. As if it were that easy, Saihara stopped again and waited for the boy to catch up with him. “So, you know me…?” Saihara felt sweaty, like he was running a high fever, but nodded his head.

”That’s so cool!” Kichi was practically beaming now, ignoring the fact that Saihara felt like he was dying. “I’m actually off work in about ten minutes if you want to wait around? I’ve never actually met anyone who _knows me_ before.” It was an odd request. Saihara certainly hadn’t expected this kind of reaction, but nodded in response, grip on his bags tightening considerably. Kichi gave a little laugh; it sounded different than the ones he gave on video. More genuine, somehow. “Okay, just wait around here for a little bit. I’ll be right back!” And with that Kichi ran back to his register, leaving Saihara alone and red as a cherry in the hustle and bustle of the market.

And so, Saihara waited. He didn’t have to. There wasn’t anything holding him there. But for some reason a big part of him wanted to wait for Kichi, wanted to wait to see what would happen. About ten minutes later Kichi emerged from the throng of shoppers again, this time without his grocer’s apron and instead sporting a soft-looking baby blue sweater that looked like it had come straight out of a GAP magazine.

”Whoa, you actually waited! I thought you would have left!” Kichi seemed to bounce with every step and it was such a stark contrast to his persona online that Saihara almost didn’t recognize him. Which may have been for the better, considering Saihara’s anxiety was still skyrocketing. The two left through the double doors and out into the warm, spring sunlight. Saihara vaguely registered Kichi mentioning some sort of cafe down the street and they began their walk down the block, Saihara still holding onto the grocery bags. A silence spanned out between them, and while Kichi seemed comfortable Saihara felt like he was going to pass out.

”So, um…. Kichi-”

”You don’t have to call me that, that’s my stage name. You can call me Ouma.”

”Right, _Ouma_ then. I didn’t know you lived so close by.” Saihara had always been a true professional when it came to conversation.

”Well I sure hope you didn’t,” Ouma responded, “That would be weird.”

”I didn’t mean it like that-” Saihara was already stumbling over his words, trying to save this interaction in any way possible. Ouma just laughed in return, as if it was some kind of funny joke.

”I know that, silly. I was just joking with you!” Saihara gave a weak, fake laugh in return, hoping that the walk to the cafe wasn’t too much longer. Of course, once they had arrived at the venue and settled down at a table, the dilemma that arose was much similar to the one Saihara had while he was walking. Now, with Ouma sitting directly across from him, it was almost impossible not to make eye contact. The cafe had proved to only create _more_ obstacles.

”So, which one are you?” the boy asked, stirring what looked to be his seventh packet of sugar into his coffee. He had already ordered something sickeningly sweet and it was a miracle that he could even handle that much sweetness in a single cup.

”Which… one?” Saihara responded, confused as to what he could possibly mean. Then again, he had been focusing very intently on an armchair that was situation just behind Ouma’s chair so he could have explained it clear as crystal and he probably still wouldn’t have truly understood the question.

”I certainly don’t peg you for the lewd type,” Ouma continued, disregarding his question entirely, “So your name would have to be more _conservative_.” Finally, it had dawned on Saihara that Ouma was asking about his pen name on the website.

”Oh, it’s saishuu1998. I couldn’t really think of anything else,” he admitted sheepishly. Ouma’s eyes lit up yet again at that- Saihara couldn’t help but notice how excitable he was at all points in time.

”That’s you? I’ve never even seen you type in the chat before! What, is it your first time with this kind of thing or what?” Ouma laughed again, pausing for a moment as if waiting for Saihara to jump in with some kind of response. “Oh. It is, isn’t it?” Saihara nodded and suddenly he was sweating again. Even though the room was at a nice, cool temperature it felt like it had suddenly turned to the inside of an active volcano. Something in the other boy seemed to shift suddenly, like a switch had been turned on in his head. His soft smile turned into more a grin, letting his head rest on his hand as he lazily stirred his coffee. Saihara recognized the look and he felt shameful for it; it was the look that he used on his viewers. While Saihara technically was his viewer, the actual look in real life was about a million times more intimidating and attractive.

”I realized I never got your name.” Saihara had almost entirely missed the question, more focused on the fact that Ouma had finished preparing his coffee and was beginning to suck on the edge of the spoon, eyes innocently trained on the other boy. Saihara was completely blank for a moment, mesmerized by the entire scene unfolding in front of him. _It was a dream, right? It had to be a dream._

”My name’s Shuuichi Saihara,” he responded shakily, feeling an uncomfortable sort of heat settling in his belly. _Oh, God, no._ Suddenly, the entire situation of being half-hard in the middle of a cafe with a camboy who he’d watched jerk off a little over a million times seemed to hit Saihara like a flatbed truck. Ouma, naturally, was the too-hot truck driver.

”It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the boy nearly purred back, “You’re looking a little red, Saihara.” Saihara pulled down on his cap, trying to hide his face to no avail. Ouma was staring at him like he was water in the middle of the desert and it didn’t help the tightness in his pants.

”I could help you with that, you know.” Saihara nearly choked. How the hell could he tell he was hard from all the way across the table? Saihara tried to size up the situation, weigh the pros and cons of having someone who was practically a stranger engage in sexual acts with him in a public location, and eventually came to the conclusion that there was no way it could end well.

”We’re in _public_ ,” he shot back, whispering quietly enough that the people at the next table over couldn’t hear.

”No problem,” Ouma responded, “Follow my lead.” Before he could protest, Ouma had stood up and gripped the back of his chair, other hand coming to grab his stomach. “I feel like I’m gonna vomit,” he whined, looking first at Saihara and then over to the back of the establishment where the bathrooms were located.

”Oh, uh…. I’ll…. Hold your hair back for you…?” Saihara responded hesitantly, aware of the gazes that were turning to the two of them. Ouma rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything, letting Saihara grab him by the shoulders and lead him back to the bathrooms, punctuating his fake nauseousness with a few groans. Once the two of them had reached the back of the store and slipped through the doors, Saihara quickly locked it behind them and felt a sudden weight lift off his chest.

”Well, I guess that worked-” Saihara was cut off by the feeling of two very soft lips connecting with his own, and then he remembered the situation in its entirety. He was going to be doing _things_ in a cafe bathroom. Ouma smiled against his lips, running his tongue across Saihara’s bottom lip. Saihara groaned into the kiss, hands coming up to cup both sides of the other boy’s face, suddenly hungry for the other boy’s mouth. Ouma’s hands tightened in his shirt as he kissed him deeper, opening his mouth for Saihara to explore. Though he was inexperienced, he picked up on the movements fairly quickly, trying to map out every part of the boy’s lips. Before he realized it, Saihara had tangled his fingers in Ouma’s hair, giving a sharp tug and drawing a moan from the other boy. And _fuck_ , that was a million times hotter in person.

Ouma’s face was flushed, a wicked glint in his eyes as he pushed Saihara against the back of the door and sank down to his knees, undoing Saihara’s belt buckle with the finesse of a professional. Saihara barely had time to think before his pants were lowered down past his thighs and Ouma was mouthing at his erection through his boxers, and everything was moving so fast Saihara thought he was seeing stars. It was _probably_ a bad time to bring up that fact that he had never done this before.

”I’ve always wanted to do this,” Ouma confessed, “It’s on my bucket list. I think I’ve talked about it before.” Saihara did vaguely recall him mentioning wanting to do something public, but it was hard to think straight when someone that had been in all of your dirty fantasies for the past few months was on his knees for you. “Who knew it would be with someone so attractive.” Saihara stammered, trying to find some kind of response but all the words had escaped him when Ouma pulled down his boxers to meet his pants, leaving his cock entirely exposed. There was a pause that seemed to echo into eternity, like this one moment of showing his dick to a stranger was the end of all things. Saihara wouldn’t consider himself especially self-conscious, but having someone else to judge was nerve-wracking.

Ouma let out a little gasp, running his finger from Saihara’s base up to his tip, sending a shiver up the boy’s spine. “You’re big,” Ouma commented, pressing a kiss to the head, leaving Saihara bucking up from against the door for more contact. Ouma giggled, letting his index finger circle around Saihara’s tip while his other hand held his hip steady against the door to stop him from moving. “Excited, huh?” Saihara moaned, hands scrabbling for some kind of purchase on the door to no avail.

Ouma reached out with the hand that had been pressing on his hip, grabbing for Saihara’s hand and bringing it to the back of his head. “You can hold on here. Don’t worry, you’re not gonna break me.” Saihara wove his fingers into the boy’s hair, giving a soft tug and earning a little whimper in response. Finally, Ouma took the boy’s cock into his mouth, slowly winding his tongue around the head, glancing up at Saihara with wide eyes that were too pretty for something like this. Saihara’s grip on his hair tightened, which Ouma must have taken as a cue to start moving.

Saihara had expected Ouma to be good at this, but with no experience he wasn’t able to get a ballpark estimate of how good exactly that would be. When Ouma had taken his entire length into his mouth, it felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. Saihara could feel his cock hit the back of the other boy’s throat and it was a damn miracle that he didn’t come right then. Everything about his mouth was warm and slick and it felt _amazing_. Not even Saihara’s most arousing fantasy could compare to watching Ouma suck him off like his life depended on it. Saihara bucked up experimentally, keeping a tight grip on the boy’s hair. Ouma choked, quickly pulling himself off and gasping for air. A string of saliva dripped down his chin.

”I’m so sorry-” Saihara had started, only to be shushed by the boy below him.

”Do it again,” he shot back, “Harder.” Ouma was back on him again in an instant, no hesitation.

Shaken, but not one to deny orders, Saihara thrust himself up into Ouma’s mouth, feeling him swallow around his cock as the other boy relaxed his jaw. Ouma wasn’t just good at this, he was beyond any expectation Saihara could have set for anyone. If there was an Olympic gold medal for dick sucking, he would win it hands down. Before he could realize it, Saihara was pushing him down on his cock, holding him there once Ouma had taken his length all the way in. Ouma swallowed around him again and Saihara nearly blacked out. After a few moments the boy below him sputtered, choking on him again, tears welling up in his eyes at the sensation of it all. Finally, Saihara released him and Ouma came back up for air, coughing again and trying to regain his breath.

”Fuck,” Ouma gasped, eyes clouded in the same way they did when he was on his video stream. “Can I make a request?”

”Anything,” Saihara responded, desperate to get the show back on the road.

”Come on my face,” Ouma grinned, bringing his hands to rest in his lap, “Mark me up.” Saihara groaned, reaching for his own length and stroking himself fast and hard, feeling his orgasm creeping up on him.

”That’s right, Saihara,” the other boy breathed out, “Come for me.” And like that, the dam broke and Saihara came with a broken groan, his come shooting out in stripes across the other boy’s face, just below his eye, up in his hair, on his lips. Ouma’s tongue peeked out to lick up the substance from his lips, a little giggle escaping him as he stood, walking to the paper towel dispenser in the corner to clean himself up.

”Holy _shit_ ,” Saihara gasped, still reeling from the aftershocks, trying hard to compose himself while he pulled his underwear and pants back up. Ouma was in front of the little mirror, wiping off his face with a damp paper towel. “That was amazing.”

”I’m glad you’re satisfied,” Ouma responded in a sing-song voice, wiping the last of Saihara’s come from his chin before doing a once-over and deciding he had cleaned himself up properly. He walked over to the other boy and planted a kiss on Saihara’s cheek, unlocking the door behind him and swinging it open. “I’d wait a few moments before coming out again.”

”W-Wait, what about you?” He couldn’t even get the sentence out before Ouma was gone. Saihara walked over to the mirror and took a look at his reflection; the people in the cafe might not believe Ouma but would certainly believe _he’d_ fallen ill. His entire face was flushed and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his bangs sticking to his forehead in clumps. Saihara took a few moments to fix himself up and stared at himself in the mirror. _Just lost my virginity to a camboy in a cafe bathroom. No big deal!_ Finally, he emerged back out into the cafe, shamefully crossing the premises back to his table. There was no sign of Ouma; his sweater that he had stripped off upon arrival was gone as well. Saihara let out a sigh and plopped back down in his chair, holding his head in his hands. _What the fuck just happened?_

He hadn’t noticed it at first, but the napkin in front of him had writing on it.

_Had lots of fun! Give me a call sometime! XOXO._

A phone number was written hastily below it. Saihara decided he had to go out more often.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized halfway through this one that I made the money American dollars and now I feel Foolish(tm)


	3. Hold Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saihara's got it bad. Ouma isn't much better off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thanks for all the positivity on this fic! I'm hoping to do about three more chapters, maybe? Depends on if people still like it, I guess.

By the time Saihara arrived home, his legs had stopped shaking and his face had nearly lost its flush. It wasn’t until he actually made it back that he realized he had forgotten the grocery bags back in the cafe in his haste to escape the premises as quickly as possible. He may have lost a bit of cash, but the crumpled up napkin in his back pocket was worth it. He had already gone through all five stages of grief in his head on the way home, and decided that perhaps getting sucked off in a cafe bathroom by an almost-stranger wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened today.

After a quick shower Saihara found himself back on his bed, contemplating whether or not he should text Ouma. Was it too soon to text? And what was he even supposed to say? _”Hey, thanks for the blowjob. Really blew me away, no pun intended”?_ After agonizing for another twenty minutes or so, he settled on a response that couldn’t possibly backfire. 

_You: Hey. This is Saihara._

Saihara had expected another long, arduous wait that would test his own mental strength but was instead awarded with an answer less than a minute later.

_Ouma: hey, you! i thought you’d never text me <3 _

_You: I just got home, like…. Twenty minutes ago._

_Ouma: well shame on you for making me wait!_

_You: Sorry…._

_Ouma: just kidding! i’m not really upset! are you joining the stream tonight? :)_

Saihara wasn’t sure what he should do. Would it be weird to say that he would be watching the person that sucked his dick earlier that he was going to watch him pleasure himself? Then again, he had asked for a reason, right? This was much less complicated when it was just over video.

_You: Yeah._

_Ouma: great! i’m looking forward to it ;)_

After that moment, Saihara couldn’t wait for eight o’clock to roll around. His nerves had him on end, but the thought of seeing Ouma again was tantalizing, even over camera. Seeing him in person added a new layer of thrill, knowing that they had _done things_ with you before. Maybe it was weird, but Saihara couldn’t find it in himself to care as he hastily opened up his laptop and switched over to the site just as the usual music started to play in the background of the video. A moment later Ouma himself appeared on screen, dressed in another one of his slips. This time it was a dark red colored one with lace surrounding every hem; Saihara hadn’t seen this one before.

”Good evening, everyone! How are we all doing tonight?” Ouma’s voice came over the speakers and Saihara could already feel arousal starting to swirl in his lower half. The chat room exploded, as per the usual, and Saihara could tell that Ouma was feigning interest, which he only did if he had something significant to say. “Well I’m glad everyone’s been well. I had quite an _interesting_ day myself.” Ouma crossed one of his legs over the other, lounging back against the headboard. “I met a fan today. It was a very fun experience, indeed.” Suddenly, Saihara’s heart dropped to his knees. Ouma wasn’t going to tell everyone about it, was he?

”He was so cute. I couldn’t help it, when he ran into me I just had to spend an afternoon with him. It’s not often I meet any of you guys.” _Cute?_ Saihara’s entire face was burning, but the feeling in his groin certainly wasn’t subsiding. Already the chat room was full of people claiming to be the mystery fan, and it wasn’t long before argument broke out. “Well,” Ouma piped up, eyes scanning the lines of text with amusement, “It certainly wasn’t any of you. The person I met doesn’t talk much, but he certainly sounds adorable when he’s having his cock sucked. And I _know_ he’s watching.” Ouma glanced up at the camera and raised an eyebrow, and Saihara could barely stifle the noise that escaped his lips.

”It’s a shame I couldn’t stay longer,” Ouma pouted, “We would have had so much more fun together. All I got to do was suck him off, which isn’t nearly as fun as a lot of other things,” His hands wandered down to his panties, gently moving the fabric to the side and teasingly circling around himself, biting his lip to stifle a groan. “I wonder if he’s ever fucked anyone before,” he continued, “I would have let him fuck me if he asked.” Saihara’s pulse picked up, his hand wandering to palm at his length through his boxers. He was already hard. Ouma talking about him was more than just an ego boost. “I’m not sure I could have taken all of him. He was big. Made me choke on him.” Ouma pushed a finger into himself with no hesitation, letting out a gasp. “I couldn’t help myself, I was so heated up that the second I got home I fucked myself on my fingers. I’m still stretched.” He added another two fingers as though he was trying to prove a point, and Saihara could already feel the coil in his groin tightening dangerously but there was no way he was going to come this quickly.

Ouma withdrew his fingers after just a few thrusts, reaching over to grab a bottle of lube out of the drawer on his nightstand, throwing the bottle unceremoniously onto the sheets in front of him and reaching down in another drawer off-screen. He came back on screen with a long, blue dildo in hand, one of the many in his extensive collection that must total more than Saihara has ever had in his bank account. Quickly stripping away his underwear and top, Ouma uncapped the lube and put a healthy amount on the toy.

”I couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like for him to bend me over and fuck me. Push me up against the wall, make me beg for his cock,” Ouma’s voice was dripping with arousal, and it wasn’t until then that Saihara noticed that his usual facade had shifted a little. Maybe it was just his intuition, but Ouma seemed much more genuine tonight. That was enough for Saihara to throw his head back, and he stopped touching himself all together. He wasn’t ready to come yet, so he watched Ouma run the toy around his rim, thighs jumping at the sensation. The boy spread his legs wider to accommodate the size and slid the head in, moaning so loud that Saihara was sure his neighbors could hear it. “God, I’ve wanted this all day. I feel so empty.” With one quick movement Ouma thrust the toy into him, nearly sobbing once it was all the way inside of him. Saihara groaned in tandem, going to stroke himself again and wondering how it would feel to be inside of him like that.

After a moment of getting entirely comfortable, Ouma withdrew the toy until just the head was inside of him, slamming it back in with full force. His entire body shuddered with each thrust, available hand gripping the bedsheets hard. Despite the eroticism of it all, Saihara couldn’t help but notice the little, attractive things about the other boy. The way that his milky, soft skin stretched taut over his ribs. The way his mouth hung open, soft lips still slightly bruised from his treatment earlier. The way his eyes seemed to extend into forever, all darkness and energy. It was the only thing keeping him grounded as Ouma’s pace picked up, slamming into himself with a sort of animalistic abandon, crying out without shame while his hard cock sat flushed against the pale skin of his stomach. It was picture-perfect, like something straight out of Saihara’s fantasies except _he_ was the one pounding into the boy, making him squirm beneath him.

” _Fuck,_ ” Ouma gasped, “Your cock is so good. Oh, _fuck yeah._ ” It was all so horribly lewd and Saihara had to stifle his noises, knowing that the walls between his own apartment and the one next door were paper-thin. “God, I want you. This isn’t enough,” Ouma sounded genuinely frustrated for a moment, trying vainly to go faster, go harder. “I want you to make me beg for you. Let me ride you, bend me over, slam me against a wall, do _something_.” Saihara wished he could in that moment; wished he could take Ouma by the hips and tease him, fuck him nice and slow and languid before he got rough. He wanted to make him forget his own name, make him plead for him. Saihara hadn’t thought about anything like that before, but it was effective in getting him right up to the edge. Ouma was close too- his breathing had started to hitch which was always sure sign he was about to come. Saihara knew him sexually like the back of his hand.

”Oh, _shit_ ,” Ouma whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut and using the hand that was gripping the bedsheets to stroke himself, letting out a low whine. “ _Saihara-_ ” Ouma had just barely gotten it out as he climaxed, and Saihara had never come so hard in his life. He shot his load into his hand, his own name on Ouma’s tongue dancing through his head as his vision whited out. After a few moments he came down, breathing heavily as he took in the sight on the screen. Ouma looked _demolished_. Ropes of his own come streaked his stomach, his entire ribcage heaving as he tried to regain his breath. Slowly, he took the toy out of himself, wincing a little at the emptiness. Ouma let out a little giggle, working his way into a proper sitting position to check out the chat room, which was going absolutely nuts, as expected.

”I’m sorry,” Ouma sounded utterly breathless, pushing some stray locks of hair out of his face, “I didn’t mean to get so carried away. I hope that was okay.” There he was, looking into the camera again. Was he trying to look at Saihara? Trying to connect with him? His hopes were high seeing as he had just come saying his name, but Saihara had always been one to read into things a little too much. Ouma talked for a few moments more, mostly just answering questions in the chat room as he always did. Saihara took the time to clean himself up, tucking himself back in his underwear and listening to the sound of the other boy’s voice. About twenty minutes later the stream was offline and Saihara closed his laptop, lying on his back and looking up at the ceiling. He liked to do that a lot, just tracing little constellations in the pores and lines. It was a good way to unwind. He had nearly started to drift off when his phone buzzed on his bedside table.

_Ouma: how was it? i hope you were watching_

_You: I was watching. It was great._

The response was terrible, but overall a pretty accurate summary.

_Ouma: i’m glad! :) it’s hard not to think about you, ya know? do you want to meet up again tomorrow?_

_You: I work until five, but any time after is fine._

_Ouma: sounds great! we can meet at cafe again if you want :)_

_You: Alright. I’ll see you then._

_Ouma: good!~ have a good night, saihara <3 _

Saihara put his phone back down on its spot on the bedside table and turned his attention back up to the ceiling. How the hell did he end up so lucky?


	4. Church

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saihara meets up with Ouma again. Ouma is good with probability.

The next day at work Saihara had been anxiously awaiting the end of the day. His job didn’t require too much effort; he worked as a receptionist at a music studio. All he had to do was check in the students that were taking lessons and answer the phone. His friend had snagged him the job when their last receptionist ended up getting fired for sleeping with one of the instructors in his studio room. Saihara certainly wasn’t one to judge, but he’s glad that it saved him from his previous food service job. Regardless, the hours were flexible and worked with his university schedule so he certainly couldn’t complain.

”Hey, what’cha thinkin’ about?” Saihara nearly tumbled out of his chair, suddenly snapping out of his thoughts to see the girl who had gotten him the job standing in front of the desk. He had met Kaede through a required math class at university when she had absolutely no idea how to solve any of the equations on the homework. He taught her math and she taught him basic piano; the skill had been entirely useless but it was still interesting. And he ended up with a job because of it. “You’ve been spacey all day. Is something going on?”

Saihara had contemplated telling Kaede about Ouma. He had been weighing the pros and cons of telling her all afternoon and he would tell her if he could find a way to state it that wasn’t something along the lines of, _”Oh, yeah, I got my dick sucked by an internet cam star. Just mundane stuff like that!”_.

”A little. I met someone the other day-”

” _No. Way._ ” A huge grin broke out on Kaede’s face and before Saihara could finish she had swept him up into a big hug. “That’s so great! I’m so happy for you Saihara!” A big part of Saihara wanted to interrupt her and tell her that it wasn’t really what she thought, but who was he to rain on her parade?

”Ah…. Thank you, Kaede,” Saihara managed, feeling a little winded when Kaede finally released him from her vice grip. “I’m actually going to go see him after work today.”

”Oh, so _that’s_ why you’ve been like this! You’re excited! Well, why don’t you take off a little bit early. Only regulars ever check in after this time. I can take care of all of their stuff for you.” Saihara was a bit shocked; he knew Kaede could be kind but he hadn’t realized that she was this charitable.

”Are you sure?” Kaede rolled her eyes and grabbed his coat from the rack, thrusting it into his arms.

”I’m positive. Go and have fun!” Saihara gave her a quick thanks and threw on the jacket, grabbing his keys from behind the desk and heading out toward the exit. “Oh, and Saihara,” Kaede called to him from behind the desk, “Make sure you use protection, okay? It’s important!” Saihara knew it was supposed to be a joke but he couldn’t help the blush lighting up his face as he stepped out into the street.

Saihara had arrived at the cafe about twenty minutes before Ouma was scheduled to arrive and snagged them the same table they had yesterday. It was hard to believe that it was only yesterday that he had his first sexual encounter in the very same cafe, and Saihara swore he could feel a barista staring at him in recognition. Suddenly he was anxious, wondering if anyone had noticed something and realized what him and Ouma had been doing. Maybe someone saw him stagger out, red-faced and sweaty and recognized him again today. The panic didn’t fester too much, as Ouma had shown up right on schedule and gave him a cheerful wave when he walked through the door.

”Hey, Saihara!” Ouma was just as bubbly as he had been yesterday, settling down across from Saihara and dropping his little drawstring bag on the floor. It was obvious he had just come from work, as he was wearing a pair of dark pants that looked almost identical to the ones from yesterday. His sweater was different today; it was dark blue with a white-lettered logo for some clothing company Saihara had never heard of. "How was your day today?”

”It was fine. Boring. How about yours?” Ouma ended up rambling for forty minutes about some old guy who was apparently arguing about him giving correct change. The fact that Ouma had enough energy in him to dwell on that single subject for nearly an hour was enough to give Saihara a pretty good idea of what working with Ouma would be like.

”He even asked for my manager! Like I didn’t go to grade school or something. I _know_ how to count.” Ouma was incredibly fired up about the ordeal, but the moment Saihara suggested grabbing their drinks he had settled back down into his normal, bright self. It was like someone had flipped a switch.

”So, Ouma,” Saihara began as he watched Ouma shovel sugar into his drink, “Why did you invite me out?” Ouma took his sweet time preparing his coffee, eyes not leaving his drink as Saihara waited anxiously for a response.

”Because I sucked your dick here yesterday and I know it wasn’t exactly the most proper introduction,” he replied. Saihara sputtered, hoping that no one heard him. Of course, the place isn’t nearly as populated at 5:30 on a Monday evening as it was yesterday, so they were almost the only ones in the entire place. “I mean, I figure I’d at least get to know you a little before the next time!”

 _Next time?_ Ouma just continued on like nothing had happened, sipping from his drink innocently. “And when exactly is ‘next time’...?”

Ouma set his cup back down thoughtfully, tapping at his chin with one of his fingers. It would have been cute, all things considered. “Well, if I’ve calculated correctly, then it’ll be tonight!” Saihara froze, heat creeping up his neck, “And if not tonight, then I think at least within the next fourty-eight hours. Though, that’s just my guess!” Ouma’s confidence was unwavering, and for some reason that made Saihara think that his estimate was more likely to be correct. Saihara could already feel his skin tingling a little just watching the other boy. “So, Saihara, tell me about yourself!”

And so for the next few hours they exchanged details about themselves. Saihara had felt like he was being interviewed, but for some reason he didn’t mind too much. He talked about his schooling and the criminology degree that he’s pursuing. He told him about Kaede and the studio he worked at, and Ouma listened with intent fascination, occasionally sucking obscenely on his spoon again like he did before or licking at his lips to get Saihara to stutter. It had felt like some sort of childish game, but as long as Saihara didn’t get hard the middle of the cafe again he would allow it.

Ouma lived a shockingly similar life. Not that Saihara had perceived him as some alien from another planet, but it was still surprising how alike they were. Ouma was pursuing a degree in politics at another university a few miles away. He worked at the grocery store, which Saihara already knew, but he had a secondary job that he occasionally worked during graveyard shifts. “A sex shop? I know it should have been predictable, but…” Ouma laughed a little, swatting playfully at Saihara’s shoulder.

”Well _of course_ , where else am I going to get my discounts for my stuff?” It sure did explain the extensive collection. “Besides, it’s not like it’s a bad place to work. No parents nearby to disappoint, you meet some very interesting people, and you get vibrators in every shape and size you could imagine for fifty percent off!” Saihara couldn’t argue with that, and about two cups of coffee later the shop was closing for the night. As the two stepped outside into the brisk evening air, Saihara found himself disappointed that their time together was coming to an end.

”Say, Saihara,” Ouma started, “If my guess was correct, you probably wouldn’t say no if I invited you back to my apartment, correct?”

Saihara didn’t even need to think twice. “You would be correct.”

Fortunately Ouma only lived two bus stops away so the ride home was only mildly awkward for a short time. Saihara was starting to realize that one of two things were going to happen tonight: one, he was going to end up making a fool of himself and Ouma would never want to see him again or two, he was going to end up fucking Ouma senseless. The second option seemed much more inviting by leaps and bounds, but he couldn’t stop the nervousness in his gut as the two approached Ouma’s apartment door. The key got stuck in the lock for a moment and needed a little maneuvering, but soon they were both inside and the lights to the place were flicked on.

The apartment was well-furnished and looked like it had barely been lived in. Everything was perfectly clean, not a thing out of place. It was much more posh than Saihara’s home and he couldn’t help but wonder how Ouma could afford all this. “My parents send me money, in case you were wondering,” Ouma piped up from the hallway leading into the back of the apartment, “Any time you’re done ogling at my furniture I can give you something else to ogle at.” Saihara wondered for a moment what Ouma’s parents could possibly be doing to be able to send him enough money to furnish an apartment this nice, but he made his way down the hallway to where a soft light was streaming out of the bottom of the door.

Saihara opened the door and nearly passed out; Ouma was already half naked, sitting on the same bed that Saihara had seen him pleasure himself on. It was like seeing a movie set in real life. None of it felt particularly real but Saihara couldn’t argue when a very attractive person was basically an open invitation. Hesitantly, Saihara stripped off his shirt, tossing it down on the ground, moving to sit next to the boy on the bed. “Well, I guess you don’t waste any time,” Saihara commented, moving next to remove his jeans.

Ouma chuckled darkly, running a hand up Saihara’s back and making him shiver. “Why would I want to waste time with talking when we could use it for other things?” It was an _incredibly_ good point and the room had suddenly gotten a few degrees warmer. With his pants stripped and tossed hastily on the floor, Saihara was at an utter loss.

”I’m sorry, I don’t really… Know what to do,” Saihara admitted, face heating up at the embarrassment of it all. Would Ouma laugh at him? Kick him out? It made his stomach hurt a little bit.

”Oh. Well, don’t worry! I can teach you a few pointers if you’d like,” Ouma purred out, cupping Saihara’s cheek and turning him to face him. “Just follow my lead, okay? I’ve done this plenty of times!” Saihara nodded and then Ouma was kissing him; it was soft, almost unbearably so, and already he could feel his body begging for more contact. Feeling brave, he licked across Ouma’s lower lip and made him shudder. Ouma had tossed a leg up over his lap, straddling him and hand slowly moving to run along Saihara’s shoulders. Saihara gripped at the small of Ouma’s back, pulling him in closer and deepening the kiss, taking his time to explore his mouth and the the texture of his skin on his fingertips. Every part of him was so unbelievably soft and it hadn’t dawned on Saihara how his hips were much more prominent than they appeared on camera.

”You’re so sweet, Saihara,” Ouma murmured, his breath ghosting over Saihara’s lips. “So cute. I wonder what you’re like without that anxious little mask of yours,” Saihara didn’t even have a moment to question it before Ouma wound his fingers in his hair, pulling sharply and eliciting a loud moan from Saihara who did his best to stifle it with his hand. “No, no,” Ouma scolded, grabbing the hand that had gone to cover his mouth and covering it with his own, slamming it down onto the bed next to them. “I want to hear everything you give me. Don’t think about stifling yourself or I might have handcuff you!” Saihara couldn’t help the excitement at the thought, but he would never voice that out loud. At least, not yet. “Just kidding,” Ouma giggled, grinding down hard on Saihara’s lap, “I wouldn’t do that to my dear Saihara!... Unless he asked, of course.” Saihara bit at his lip, trying not to let any sound escape. It was too much, too _embarrassing_.

”I see what you’re doing, Saihara,” Ouma pouted, “I guess I’ll have to do a little better, hm?” Saihara sighed in disappointment as Ouma stood up from his lap, dropping down to his knees between his legs. Gently pushing his knees open, Ouma mouthed at the bulge that had formed in Saihara’s boxers. He grunted, clenching his eyes shut and trying hard to level himself out. When he dared to open his eyes again, Ouma had his fingers hooked in the waistband and was tugging the article off of him. They were off in a second and Saihara’s cock sprung to attention, already dripping with precome. “Maybe this will get Saihara to listen to me,” Ouma wondered out loud, smirking up at the boy before licking a stripe up his shaft. Saihara had nearly lost it. Ouma ran his tongue around the tip, pausing for a moment to hold out his tongue for Saihara to see the precome that had gathered on his tongue; that was it. Saihara groaned loud enough that all of the city could have heard it, hands fisting in the sheets.

Ouma put his tongue back in his mouth, giggling a little. “That’s right, Saihara. Keep that up!” Ouma’s hand grabbed the base of his cock, stroking him with feather-light touches. “You sound so gorgeous, Saihara. You’re like a natural!” Ouma’s comments were making it harder for Saihara to hold onto any semblance of usual composure. He hadn’t expected being praised to be one of the things that made him tick, but then again he had never done anything like this before. “Just imagine what it’ll be like to have your cock inside me,” Ouma pressed a kiss to his tip, “You’re gonna feel _so good_ Saihara. I’ve been thinking about it since we met, you know.” His strokes were slowly speeding up, pausing to run his thumb along the sensitive slit, his hands working like a seasoned professional.

”Ouma, _please_ ,” Saihara whined, bucking up into his hand to try and get him to go faster. Ouma pulled his hand away, resting his head on the inside of Saihara’s thigh, pressing little kisses to the sensitive skin there.

What is it, Saihara? Are you ready to fuck me yet?” Saihara nodded vigorously and Ouma stood, moving over to the drawer that Saihara knew contained his sex toys. He tossed a bottle of lube in Saihara’s direction and shut the drawer, settling himself against the headboard and stripping off his own boxers. Saihara knew that Ouma mostly said things to arouse him, but it was surprising that Saihara was actually bigger than him. The two sat in charged silence for a moment.

”What…?” Saihara asked after a moment.

”Aren’t you going to, you know,” Ouma gestured to the bottle and back to himself, and suddenly it clicked.

”Oh,” Saihara could feel his face burning again, “I didn’t know you wanted _me_ to do that. I’ve never done it before… Are you sure it’s okay?”

”Well, of course. You’re going to have your dick inside of me in a few minutes so why wouldn’t I trust you with this?” It was a good point. Ouma made a lot of good points. Saihara grabbed the bottle and popped the cap open, slathering a healthy amount in his hand and coating his finger with it. With his clean hand, Saihara nudged Ouma’s legs open and brought a finger up to his entrance. The nerves were hitting him hard now and he couldn’t stop staring; he took a moment and took a deep breath. “Come on, Saihara. It’s fine.” Saihara nodded and dipped his finger inside of the other boy. He was surprisingly tight and so, so warm. Saihara groaned, slowly pumping his finger in and out of his.

”Good job,” Ouma breathed, letting out an aroused sigh of his own, “Mmm… Your fingers are longer than mine.” Saihara wasn’t sure how to take that, so he increased his speed just slightly. Ouma gripped at his shoulders, letting out a low whine. The noises helped to encourage him, and soon Saihara added a second finger. Ouma was grinding down on his fingers, breathing out “more” and “faster” under his breath, the grip on Saihara’s shoulders tightening with every thrust. Saihara scissored his fingers open; he would rather be thorough and be sure he was ready than risk hurting him in the long run.

”Hurry, I’m ready for- _ah_ ,” Ouma stopped mid-sentence, breath catching in his throat when Saihara’s fingers hit his prostate. Saihara hit the same spot a few more times and watched as Ouma’s back arched off the bed. It was a lovely sight to see. Finally, after Saihara knew he was ready, he pulled his fingers out of the other boy and Ouma whined at the loss. Once again, Saihara was at an utter loss. Before he could dwell on the subject for too long, Ouma pulled him over, pinning him to the bed and looming over him, kissing and biting down the expanse of his neck. Their erections rubbed together and Saihara whimpered, bucking up to look for more friction, but Ouma pulled away before he could continue. Saihara tried again to make contact, but Ouma pushed his hips back down into the bed, a hungry look plastered on his face, eyes dark with arousal and face horribly flushed.

”I’m gonna ride you so hard you won’t remember your own name,” Ouma gripped for the base of Saihara’s cock, positioning it at his entrance. “Do you want that, Saihara?” Saihara nodded, rolling his hips up toward the other boy who was just barely out of reach. Ouma grinned wickedly, keeping himself just barely out of reach. “Then let me hear you say it.”

”I want it,” Saihara panted, trying hard to break free of the grip Ouma had on his hip.

”Hmm, you’re going to have to do a little better than that,” Ouma gently stroked Saihara’s cock, painstakingly slow. Saihara hissed, the heat boiling in his gut and his need for release overwhelming his pride.

”I want you to ride me, Ouma. Please, _please_ let me fuck you.” Ouma gave a satisfied hum; it must have been what he wanted to hear.

”Mm, good boy Saihara! I guess that’ll do.” Saihara sighed in relief as Ouma lowered himself down onto his cock, hands scrabbling to find some kind of purchase. He was tight and hot and Saihara had underestimated what it would feel like to be inside someone. Ouma bit down on his lip, pausing once Saihara’s cock was buried to the hilt inside him. “Fuck,” he muttered, nails scratching roughly down from where his hand was pressing on Saihara’s hip, “You feel so _good_.” Saihara could have stayed frozen in that moment for a very long time; it felt so new and foreign but good enough that his entire body was tingling with excitement.

Once he had gotten used to the feeling, Ouma pulled Saihara’s cock out of him up to the head, slamming it back in with one, fast movement. Ouma’s head fell back, a unashamed moan tumbling from his lips. He repeated himself, panting as he bounced himself on the other boys’ cock. Saihara was writhing underneath him, meeting each thrust with a roll of his hips. His hands had moved to grip Ouma’s hips, fingers digging into his sides hard enough to bruise. Ouma had gotten a handful of Saihara’s hair, pulling as he rode him, leaving a nice burning sensation across Saihara’s scalp.

”How is it, Saihara?” Ouma panted out, not relenting on his actions.

”Good… Fuck, it’s so good,” Saihara managed, a broken cry escaping his lips as Ouma sheathed him entirely inside.

”It feels good for me, too,” Ouma replied, “I just wish you’d stop holding back.”

”I’m not holding back,” Saihara responded, grunting when Ouma’s pace slowed down to a long, dragging lull.

”Come on, Saihara. I know you’re not doing what you really want,” Ouma murmured, hips moving agonizingly slow, “I know you don’t want to go this slow, right?” Saihara shook his head, fingers clamping harder on the other boys’ hips. “Then you know what to do, Saihara. You just have to do it.” Saihara could feel a lump forming in his throat, but he swallowed it down. Saihara did know what he wanted, but he wasn’t prepared to admit that. “Tell me what you want, Saihara.”

”I… I want to fuck you into the mattress,” Saihara admitted, “I want to pin you down and fuck you until you can’t walk. I want you to scream my name.” He had barely been able to get it out, eyes clenched shut for fear of facing Ouma again.

Suddenly, Ouma placed a kiss on his temple, breath hot on his ear. “Then do it. Make me scream, Saihara.” At that moment, the dam broke. Saihara flipped the both of them over, pulling out of the other boy in the process. Ouma whined in protest but it wasn’t long before Saihara was pushing back into him. His thrusts were rough, sharp movements, and Ouma gripped at his shoulders, raking his nails down his back. “Yeah… _fuck_ , that’s it. Come on, Saihara. You can do better than that!” Saihara’s hand wove into the other boy’s dark locks, pulling a fistful and forcing his head back far enough that Saihara could kiss and bite at his neck with ease, sucking dark marks into his skin. It was like a blotch on a milk puzzle, the dark marks standing out easily on his neck. Ouma let out a choked cry, legs wrapping around his waist and urging him to move faster. Saihara’s hips were starting to tire, but he wasn’t willing to back down from it now.

”I’m getting close, Saihara,” Ouma groaned, “Don’t screw it up.” It was meant to be cold but it sounded horribly desperate between the heavy breaths and little whimpers, but Saihara continued, reaching in between their bodies to stroke the other boy’s cock. Ouma nearly screamed, entire body writhing under Saihara’s treatment. “G-Good boy,” Ouma stuttered. Saihara released his hold on Ouma's hair to grab at both of his thighs, pressing the other boy's knees up to his stomach and shifting the angle. Saihara could easily slam into the other boy's prostate from the new position, and it had Ouma crying out with every thrust. He was barely able to formulate a thought; his entire head screamed _Saihara_. He was so close and by the way Saihara’s thrusts were turning erratic, he was too.

”Ouma,” he warned, “I’m gonna… _shit_ , I’m gonna come. I’ve gotta-” Saihara moved to pull out of the other boy before it could happen, but Ouma switched the position again, wrapping his legs back around his hips to pull his body closer, thrusting his hips up as hard as he could into Saihara. “Ouma, it’s just going to be a mess-”

”Shut up,” he growled, tangling both of his hands in Saihara’s hair, “Do it. Fill me up.” Saihara wasn’t one to deny orders. A few thrusts later and Saihara’s vision splashed with white, spilling into the other boy. Ouma came with a cry only a few moments later, his come spattering between their chests. They sat there for a long while, both shaking with aftershocks and waiting for their hearts to stop pounding. Finally, Saihara pulled out of Ouma and watched his own come leaking out of the other boy. It shouldn’t have been hot in the least, but Saihara took pride in the ordeal. He rolled off of the smaller boy and onto the bed next to him. Saihara stared up at the ceiling; it was the same kind he had in his room. Constellations. Ouma let out a satisfied yawn next to him, pressing their sides together as their lay on Ouma’s bed together, staring at the ceiling.

”Was that good?” Ouma asked finally.

” _Very_ ,” Saihara responded simply. “Especially for my first time.”

”Remember when I said I’d done that before?” Ouma asked. Saihara nodded. “That was a lie. I’ve never done that before.”

Saihara’s heart almost stopped in his chest. “Wait, this was your first time with _sex_? But… You do it all the time on camera!”

”But that’s with toys and stuff. I’ve never done it with another person!” Ouma chuckled and Saihara felt a strange mixture of pride and guilt, having taken the other boy’s virginity without even realizing. Then again, Ouma had lied for a reason. “I just lied so you’d be less nervous.”

”Did I hurt you at all?” Saihara hurriedly asked.

Ouma rolled his eyes, ”No, of course not. It was just good, Saihara. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Saihara shrugged, feeling the exhaustion of his endeavors catching up with him. ”I should probably head home, Ouma. I’m exhausted,” Saihara went to grab for his boxers when Ouma reached out for his arm, pulling him back down on the bed next to him.

”You can stay here for tonight, okay? Who knows, maybe you’ll like it.” Saihara was too fatigued to argue, the warmth of his afterglow making his eyelids far too heavy. “And, Saihara,” Ouma had gotten out before the other boy could drift off to sleep, “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We climbed this whole mountain folks.


	5. Bishop's Knife Trick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saihara wakes up in Ouma's bed. Ouma invites Saihara to watch him do his work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work isn't abandoned, I swear. That seasonal depression will really get to you, amirite?

Saihara awoke the next morning with a start. He noticed three things: one, was not in his own room, two, he was uncomfortably naked and he never slept naked, and three, he was entirely alone. After a few moments of recognition, he had remembered where he was and what he had done the night before. He sat up in Ouma’s bed, uncomfortably aware of how sore his hips felt. If he felt this sore, he could only imagine how sore Ouma was. Where the hell was Ouma, anyway?

Saihara stood up, reaching for his clothes scattered on the floor and dressing as quickly as he could. For all intents and purposes, Saihara could bolt out the door right now and Ouma probably wouldn’t even realize he had left. On another hand, what kind of person would that make him? So instead he made his way into the living room, scanning for any sign of life in the apartment. When he came up empty, he made his way into what he assumed to be the kitchen. There was a little note propped up on the counter, and being the detective he was, Saihara decided to investigate. The note was in a soft, curly handwriting that Saihara recognized.

_”Called in to work. Help yourself to anything! See you later!”_

Hearts were scattered about the little note, and there was no doubt that Ouma had written it. Though Saihara had figured he should bolt as soon as he could, he had felt strangely comfortable in Ouma’s home and decided instead to settle down on the plush-looking couch in his living room. He wasn’t quite sure how long Ouma had been gone, so he flipped on the TV and settled on some documentary about some subject he had remembered learning when he was a kid. He had gotten bored fairly quickly and had fallen back asleep before thirty minutes in.

The next time Saihara awoke, Ouma was sitting on the other half of the couch that he had left unoccupied in a sweater and his boxers. Saihara jumped, nearly startling himself off the couch.

”Good morning! It’s about time you woke up!” Ouma was beaming from his side of the couch, pausing whatever it was he was watching on TV. “I’ve been watching crime shows for like two hours. I didn’t think last night would wear you out _that_ much. I guess you are a lightweight, though!” Saihara had been asleep for at least five hours today, if he were to guess. Before he could dwell on the thought too much, Ouma had climbed on top of him and straddled his lap, smiling down at Saihara with a smile as bright as the sun. “On the bright side, you’re nice and well rested,” A glint of something mischievous flashed in the other boy's eyes, “So we can have more fun together.” With that, Ouma ground himself down on Saihara’s lap, eliciting a low groan from the other boy.

”Shit, Ouma, i just woke up.” Ouma chuckled, repeating the motion again.

”You were talking in your sleep,” Ouma said, changing the subject entirely. “You were tossing and your face was bright red! You must have been having a good dream, hm?” Saihara went beet-red, suddenly aware of how clammy his hands were getting. He didn’t remember what he dreamt about, but the thought of having one of _those_ dreams in front of Ouma was embarrassing.

”R-Really?” Saihara stuttered, shivering when Ouma leaned in close to him, pressing a kiss to his temple.

”Nope, that was a lie,” Ouma chuckled again, placing another kiss on the shell of his ear, “But look how red you are!” With that he pulled away and climbed out of Saihara’s lap, reaching for the remote and pressing play. The sound of gunshots echoed out of the speakers and Ouma had returned to his spot, focusing intently on the show in front of him.

”You know what tonight is, right?”

”Uh… Tuesday?” Saihara replied dumbly, trying to pick up on whatever was happening on the TV. It looked like some forensic scientists trying to pick apart bloody, gorey remains that just seemed excessively detailed.

”It’s stream night, Saihara. I have a session tonight and I was hoping maybe you’d want to stick around. Get a little behind-the-scenes action?” Saihara had no reason to say no; his university wasn’t far from Ouma’s home and he didn’t have work later in the day, so what would be the harm staying a little later?

”Alright, sure.” Ouma seemed to brighten up at that and moved himself a little closer to Saihara, resting his head on his shoulder and trying vainly to explain the convoluted plotline that had been occurring over the past seven seasons. The closeness in proximity was a little overwhelming but in a way that was dramatically different from how Saihara felt in bed with the other boy. This was a less urgent, softer tug at his heart that made him sweat. He felt a little dizzy, but it was the rare, good kind of dizzy. Ouma smelled like lavender- maybe it was his shampoo- and it was an addicting scent. These feelings weren’t entirely foreign to Saihara; just a little uncomfortable. But the comfort of having Ouma warmly pressed against his side, rambling about some love triangle that Saihara had thought was pointless in the first place overruled the stutter in his heartbeat. He could get used to this.

Later that night, Saihara sat in a little rolling desk chair by the foot of Ouma’s bed, watching in fascination as he prepared his work space. He had recorded on a little, sleek laptop that he planted at the end of his bed unceremoniously, working the webcam to the perfect position. He was rummaging through his drawers, trying to pick a slip to wear.

”What about this one?” Ouma inquired, holding up a golden yellow lingerie set complete with lace, bows, and trimmings.

”That one’s very nice,” Saihara responded for the seventh time in a row. Ouma sighed and rolled his eyes.

”Come on Saihara, work with me!” Saihara shrugged, leaning back anxiously in his chair. Finally Ouma had decided on a pristine, white slip that looked like it had been pulled straight out of a Victoria’s Secret catalogue. He stripped and quickly put on the garments, looking over his shoulder at Saihara the entire time. Saihara could already feel his face going red, imagining what Ouma was planning for tonight. Maybe he’d take audience requests. Maybe he’d ask Saihara to join him, shamelessly gesturing to him on camera and dragging the boy over, letting Saihara ram deep inside him while everyone watched-

”Hey, Saihara! Are you okay?” Saihara snapped out of his daze, barely registering the sly smile of Ouma’s face. “Are you distracted or something?”

 _What an asshole._ “No, I’m fine. Just waiting for things to get started.” With a dismissive shrug Ouma returned to preparing for the stream, leaving Saihara shifting anxiously in his chair. The time went by fast and before he knew it Ouma was dimming down the lights in the room- he had a fucking _dimmer switch_ \- and perching himself in his usual spot against the headboard, typing away and the keyboard and fixing his hair in the webcam reflection before he pressed the record button. Saihara hadn’t noticed before but there was a soft, shimmery tint to Ouma’s lips that had just registered as lip gloss. _Cute_. 

”Alright, I’m going to start it. Just sit back and enjoy, okay?” Ouma clicked another button and he went into performance mode. Saihara, being as perceptive as he is, noticed the difference between Ouma and Kichi. Kichi smiled just a little too unnaturally, only enough for Saihara to notice in person. His voice rose up from his normal voice- during sex especially, Saihara had noticed- and the look in his eyes made him seem less erotic and more far away. Not that any of it was incredibly noticeable to a normal viewer, and it certainly didn’t make him look any less attractive than he already was. It was a tiny intricacy and Saihara felt a warm feeling stir in his stomach that he couldn’t really place. He liked knowing Ouma that way. 

”Hello, everyone! How are you all doing this fine evening?” Ouma paused for a moment, stopping to read the comments that must be pouring in. He smiled, crossing his legs and throwing a glance over at Saihara, who could already feel the start of arousal stirring in his gut. It was Pavlovian at this point. “I’m glad you’re all well. I’m doing very well myself.”

Watching Ouma run his stream was unlike how Saihara expected it to be. He thought it would be something like seeing actors out of their costumes or haunted houses in the light. Saihara was pleasantly, entirely wrong. Ouma was much more stunning than over the camera; the way his body jumped to meet his fingers when he ran them down his sides, the soft moans that followed when he stroked himself, the way that he was so spread out and open and vulnerable to see. It made Saihara breathless in more than just a sexual way.

Saihara was stroking himself through his boxers, watching Ouma finger himself open. Every once in awhile Ouma would glance over and meet his eyes, sending shivers down Saihara’s spine. Tonight the chat had suggested Ouma fuck himself with a suction-cup toy attached to the headboard. Ouma was down on his stomach, perfect ass raised as he fucked himself down on the toy, crying out and drooling onto the comforter, working his slim hips as fast and hard as his body would allow. Saihara wanted to take him. It would be so much easier for Ouma, so much more pleasurable. Walk over and pin him down, fuck him in front of everyone. It would be such a sight to see; Ouma gasping and panting below him, the chatroom going wild, the coil in Saihara’s stomach unwinding and spilling himself inside the other boy-

Saihara came hard in his hand, barely holding back groan. He hadn’t even realized he was that close, but Ouma came a few moments later and spilled onto the bed sheet. He pulled himself off of the dildo with a little _pop_ , hair mussed and eyes blissfully dark in the low light. He glanced over at Saihara, a tiny smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Was that okay?”

It was a familiar tagline meant for the viewers, but Saihara nodded, legs still feeling horribly gelatinous when he tried to stand from his chair. Ouma quickly said his goodbyes to the stream and closed his laptop, running a hand through his hair and moving to detach the toy from the headboard, shoving it back in the box beneath the bed. Saihara felt the need to wash off his stomach and dismissed himself to the bathroom, grabbing a clean washcloth from the linen cabinet and soaking it in the sink.

”That was nice,” Ouma had walked through the doorway, entirely bare and holding a towel over his shoulder. Saihara suddenly felt the need to look away, a blush creeping up on his face. “ _Really?_ ” Ouma rolled his eyes, plopping himself down on the side of the tub and turning the knobs experimentally, water echoing in the room as it poured into the basin, “You’ve had your dick inside me, Saihara. There’s no reason to be afraid of seeing me naked.”

”Still… This is different,” Saihara insisted, earning a dismissive wave of his hand from Ouma.

”Whatever. Do me a favor and throw the blanket from my bed in the washer.” Saihara quickly finished wiping the come from his stomach and threw the towel back into the sink. He made quick work of getting the blanket into the washer and returned back to the bathroom, where the water had stopped running.

”Alright, it’s in the wash.” Saihara was instantly hit with the flowery smell of lavendar and nearly recoiled; it was like a perfume department in there. Ouma was sitting in the bath, the lights dimmed- apparently Ouma possessed a dimmer switch in every room in his home- and several conflicting-scented candles billowing in the low light. The bath was filled with petals, or at least that’s what Saihara had suspected. “You did all of this while I was gone?”

”It’s my ritual,” Ouma replied, sitting up a little in the water, “I’ve gotten pretty quick with it. And you cut my work in half, so I appreciate it!” Saihara was at a loss, standing in the doorway and not quite wanting to leave but not sure how to stay. “Come take a seat, we can talk if you’d like.” Saihara stiffly moved over to the toilet seat, taking a seat and trying hard not to stare at Ouma. The candlelight was dancing off of the thin sheen on water on his body, and he seemed to glow. It was ethereal.

”Are you sure that was all okay, Saihara?” Ouma questioned, sinking back into the water and resting his head against the rim of the tub.

”Yeah… It was wonderful, actually.” Ouma seemed a little relieved at that, letting out a deep breath and closing his eyes. The room was silent for a while, only the sound of the washer echoing through the apartment. It felt strangely comfortable for what it was, but Saihara felt the need to break the quiet.

”Why do you do it? The webcam thing, I mean.”

”Well, I mean, it’s fun. It brings in some extra money. And it feels good.”

”That’s all?”

Ouma chuckled. “Not every person who puts their body out on the internet has some deep-seeded reason, Saihara. It makes me feel confident and attractive, I get money, and if my parents ever found out it would piss them off. It’s like a reward in itself.”

”But don’t you ever feel…” Saihara paused, trying to figure out what to say and how to word his thoughts.

”Dirty?” Ouma supplied. Saihara nodded hesitantly. “Well, don’t you feel dirty for watching someone else?” Saihara blushed at that, nodding softly again. “Well, don’t. Sex isn’t dirty. It’s natural.”

Saihara wasn’t sure what to say, so he cast his gaze to the floor. “Saihara,” Ouma began, “I don’t feel dirty, to answer your question. There’s no reason to. Though I understand if you think I’m-

” _No!_ ” Saihara interjected, a little too loudly. Ouma was taken aback, if only a little. “No, I don’t think that you’re like that. I think you’re beautiful. I was just curious, is all.”

Silence.

”You think I’m beautiful?”

”Yes.”

It was like Saihara had just punched him in the gut. “Oh. Thank you.”

More silence.

”Why don’t you stay again tonight?” Ouma asked, the unfamiliar edge of nervousness in his voice. “I mean, it’s already late again, there’s no reason to go home.”

”If you want, I’d really like that.”

The two of them made small talk after that. It seemed to stretch for hours. When Ouma finally emerged from the bath his fingers were pruned. Saihara had intended to fall asleep on the couch, but Ouma insisted that he stay in bed with him. _”Wouldn’t want you to hurt your back! That couch is hard as rocks!”_ It sounded like an excuse, but Saihara couldn’t turn down the offer. Saihara had school the next morning, so he set an alarm on his phone and put it on the bedside table. The comforter had been freshly washed and dried, and Ouma curled up into its warmth like a child, burying his face into the warm cotton.

Falling asleep next to Ouma was different than the night before. There wasn’t any post-coital tension, just the feeling of another warm body. They slept at a distance from each other; Ouma had turned inward while Saihara faced outward toward the doorway. Despite the gap, Saihara felt strangely comfortable. He had slept in a bed alone all his life. He had spent a long time being lonely. Maybe it was time for a change.


	6. The Last of the Real Ones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saihara falls head-over-heals and Ouma suggests a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey I bet you guys thought this would never update again but here we are. I'm a little rusty and this chapter is un-beta'd so if there's any issues with it please don't be afraid to point it out. Hopefully I'll be back to finish this fic so I hope someone is still interested in it!

In the morning when Saihara woke, he did his best to slide out of the soft downy bed and avoid waking up the softly snoring boy next to him. He wasn’t used to getting ready in a foreign place; just finding the toothpaste in Ouma’s bathroom was like exploring a labyrinth. Ouma’s medicine cabinet was cluttered chaos, filled to the brim with different facial care items, pill bottles that Saihara felt too invasive to read the labels of, and- to his surprise- a contact lens case. And so Shuuichi Saihara, clad in the clothes he had worn yesterday and low on caffeine without his usual cup of homemade coffee, traversed a number of confusing bus stops and reached his first criminology class fifteen minutes late.

Throughout the entirety of his class, Saihara found himself unable to focus on the classifications of skull fractures that his professor rambled on about at the front of the room. His thoughts were elsewhere, thinking about the warm body and soft skin of the boy he had woken up next to that morning. He wondered what Ouma was like on early mornings when Saihara didn’t have to leave for school. Was he a big spoon or a little spoon? Did he have bedhead? What did he look like when the early morning light shone in through his window, casting on his pale skin, lighting up his brilliant eyes, a smile breaking out on his face as bright as--

The sound of chairs scooting across the wooden floor awoke Saihara from his trance. Class had already ended. The boy sighed and shouldered his book bag, leaving the lecture hall and pulling his cell phone out from his bag only to find a stream of text messages from Ouma. Saihara was unable to stop the soft smile at the excessive amount of exclamation points and heart emojis, wishing him a good morning. Something in his chest fluttered, like a bird had nested in his ribcage, and Saihara realized how much he had truly been enamoured by this boy.

_Ouma: good morning!! <3_

_Ouma: i hope your class is going well!!_

_Ouma: i dont have to work today so we should do something later!!_

_Ouma: sort of a date, i guess??_

_Ouma: shuuichiiiiiiii i know youre in class but i miss you!! :(_

_Ouma: im sorry i wont bother you anymore_

_Ouma: just kidding!!_

There must have been at least 30 more texts, all just as eccentric as the next, heart emojis sprinkled among the text in excess. Some people would have thought it was annoying, but Saihara couldn’t stop the warm feeling in his chest. He may be overly-excited, but Ouma’s intentions were good and Saihara couldn’t complain; he hadn’t exactly been the most popular kid when it came to interpersonal relationships.

_Saihara: A date sounds nice. I can be at your apartment by 5._

He was tempted to add a heart of his own at the end of the text, but just the thought made him blush. He had been fucking him into the mattress just a few nights ago, but the idea of sending him a simple icon to insinuate affection almost had him sweating. Saihara sighed at his own foolishness and pocketed his phone, preparing to enter his next class, knowing he would be thinking of nothing but the events to come that evening.

Two classes, a shower, and a change of clothes later, Saihara was outside on Ouma’s apartment balcony, jittery with anxiety. He wasn’t sure what it was about the intimacy of a simple date, but it trumped the anxiety he had held in the bedroom tenfold. The only date he had ever been on was with Kaede as a sort of shot at intimacy when they first met and that was a horrendous disaster. Partly because they had both been too awkward in a romantic connotation that neither of them could stomach making a move on each other, but mostly because Shuuichi Saihara wasn’t attracted to women. After checking to make sure his hair was in place and his button-up was properly buttoned, he knocked on the door.

Ouma opened the door and Saihara was struck utterly breathless.

His hair had been pushed back into a loose braid, tossed over his right shoulder. Saihara hadn’t even realized how long his hair actually was until now. He was wearing a soft-looking white-knit sweater, one that framed his delicate shoulders and rode low on his neck. The soft bruises from their time together stood uncovered and proud on his neck, and something hot stirred inside Saihara just seeing it.

”Hello, Earth to Saihara!” Ouma teased, waving his hand dramatically in front of Saihara’s face. “I know I look good but you don’t have to flatter me!” Saihara blushed, trying hard not to lose his composure right away. The last thing he wanted was to embarrass himself just because he was flustered about a date.

”Hey,” Ouma smiled, grabbing one of his hands with both of his own, “You stress too much! We’re gonna have fun, okay?” Saihara relaxed at that, relieved that Ouma could sense his nervousness. “Besides, if Saihara can shove his dick up my ass the least he can do is take me out somewhere nice!”

_”Ouma!”_

Ouma snickered, waving his hand in a non-committal, _”just kidding,”_ motion before making his way down the stairs, still clinging on to Saihara’s hand.

The two had decided on a walk around downtown. It was nothing overly fancy, just a simple walk from shop to shop, Ouma looking happily at anything and everything with the zeal of a child at a theme park. It was cute, every excited raise of his voice tugging at Saihara’s heartstrings, and after awhile his grin was so infectious that Saihara couldn’t help but be excited, too.

Saihara wasn’t sure exactly how this had happened, but having Ouma wander into his life was one of the best things to happen to him so far. And he had only known him for a few days. What would a few months be like? A few _years?_ The thought alone had him grinning like a fool.

By the end of the night the two had found themselves sitting on a park bench, Ouma rambling about something he had seen on the news earlier today.

”And it was all just so horrible, you know?” Saihara nodded in interest, despite the fact that he had admittedly only been watching Ouma’s lips the entire way through his speech. “A mother shouldn’t treat her child like that, no matter what.”

”Yeah.” Saihara replied. A small silence settled over them for a moment; not uncomfortable, just stagnant. Ouma took the initiative and scooted himself over, lying his head on Saihara’s shoulder and moving a hand to gently lace his fingers with Saihara’s. It was peaceful and warm and Saihara could feel his head start to spin.

”Hey, Saihara?” Ouma began, voice dropping lower in tone.

”Yes?”

”Thank you for all this. I haven’t had something like this in a long, long time.” Ouma’s voice was meek, which was unusual for him, but Saihara paid it no mind and simply squeezed his hand. “I don’t know what this is or if you actually feel something for me, but regardless. I wanted to thank you.”

Saihara turned to look at the other boy, who looked noticeably downcast, free hand moving to fiddle with the end of his braid. “Of course I feel something for you,” Saihara replied.

Ouma turned to look at him and laughed, his tone surprisingly bitter. “It’s really okay if you don’t. I mean, you got what you wanted, you know?” Saihara’s brows knitted together, confused. Ouma sighed and released his grip on Saihara’s hand, Saihara mourning the loss immediately. “You slept with me. Not that I made it hard or anything, but I just figured by now you’d be gone. So I don’t know if you want more or if there’s something else you want from me, but if you just tell me what you want me to do I can-”

Saihara pulled the boy next to him into a tight hug, holding him as close to his chest as he could. Both boys were surprised at his boldness, but nonetheless Saihara could feel Ouma relax into him, arms snaking around his back to squeeze him twice as tight, clinging as though Saihara was his only shelter in a storm. Saihara could feel each rise and fall of Ouma’s chest so close to his, the gentle squeeze of Ouma’s arms around him, and for a moment Saihara wished he never had to move from this spot again. But all good things come to an end, and when the two finally pulled away Ouma had gripped him by his shirt collar and pulled him into a kiss, which Saihara realized was something even _better,_ the warmth of Ouma’s mouth on his own more like dream than reality. This wasn’t like their heated smashing of lips and feverish fight, but something much more soft and languid, dripping with something sweet and new and ready to be traversed and Saihara couldn’t even find it in himself to care about his nerves.

When they finally pulled apart, Ouma grabbed his hand and moved him up from the bench, and the two began their walk back to Ouma’s apartment. The two were silent, but the warmth of Ouma pressed gently into his side as they walked made conversation unnecessary. The sun had set a long time ago but the stars were shining in the mostly-clear sky, and Saihara couldn’t help but feel like some cheesy romance protagonist. Now he understood what the hype was about.

The two traversed the stairs up to Ouma’s apartment, and the moment the door was closed behind them, Ouma pulled the taller boy into a kiss, deeper than the one they had shared in the park. Saihara’s hand came up to gently cradle the boy’s face, pushing aside a few stray locks of hair that had fallen from the braid. Pulling away and grabbing both of his hands with his own, Ouma led Saihara down the hallway to his room, flicking on the light and plopping down on the mattress, silently asking Saihara to join him.

Saihara settled down over him, guiding the smaller boy down onto the mattress and placing his own hands on either side of his shoulders. Their lips were locked again in an instant, heating up into something a little more than chaste. Ouma let out a soft whine, nipping at his lower lip and arching up into his body, as if begging to fit their bodies together like puzzle pieces.

”Ouma, we don’t have to do this,” Saihara murmured, their lips still ghosting on one anothers’, “I don’t just want _this.”_

Ouma smiled softly, “I know. And, please,” he tenderly reached to cradle Saihara’s face, who instinctively leaned into his touch, “Call me Kokichi.” Saihara’s heart felt like it was beating out of his chest, the intensity of the situation burning like a flame deep in his belly. His lips were back on Ouma’s- _Kokichi’s-_ in a second, hands moving to remove Kokichi’s sweater, Kokichi himself fumbling to undo his hair tie, letting his hair fall out in soft waves.

”Shuuichi,” Saihara managed, letting out a sweet sigh as Kokichi moved to unbutton his shirt, “Call me Shuuichi.” Kokichi smiled and pushed Shuuichi’s shirt off his shoulders, Shuuichi removing it the rest of the way and letting it fall to the floor behind him.

Within moments, their clothes had been entirely discarded, skin touching skin and breaths coming out in soft pants, Kokichi grinding up into the other boy for friction. Shuuichi had moved to kiss and suck at his neck, leaving fresh marks in his wake, hand moving up Kokichi’s prominent hipbone, slowly teasing at the base of the other boys’ cock.

”Shuuichi, _please,”_ Kokichi moaned, voice breaking when Shuuichi took him into his hand, stroking him slowly while he continued his way down to the smaller boys’ collar bones. Kokichi was writhing beneath him, biting his lip hard to avoid crying out at the others’ touch. Despite the tenderness, Kokichi could feel his arousal stirring deep in his gut, an absolute burning need to have Shuuichi even closer to him, to touch him and hold him, to move with him until it was impossible to tell where he ended and the other began. “I need you.”

Shuuichi nodded in understanding, releasing his grip and moving to retrieve the bottle of lube out of Kokichi’s side table. Kokichi went to grab it from him, but Shuuichi hesitated.

”I promise it’s okay, I really want to do this,” Kokichi reassured.

”It’s not that. It’s, uh,” Shuuichi paused, unable to meet the others boys’ eyes, “I was wondering if… Since I’ve already been… _inside_ you, I figured it would only be fair if-”

”You want me to fuck you, Shuuichi?” Kokichi said, the bluntness of it only making Shuuichi more flustered.

”I mean, if you want to.”

Kokichi contemplated for a moment before grabbing the lube from his hand and emptying a healthy amount onto his fingers.

“How could I say no?” Kokichi smiled and gestured for Shuuichi to lay back, running his clean hand reassuringly over the other boys’ hand. “I’m not exactly the type to do it this way, but it would be an honor to make my darling Shuuichi feel good.” Shivers ran up Shuuichi’s spine at the words, tensing slightly when Kokichi began to circle a finger around his rim.

”Just let me know if you want to switch, okay?” Kokichi pressed a kiss to Shuuichi’s forehead and the other boy nodded in response, taking in a deep breath before Kokichi pushed his first finger in.

It felt strange, to say the least, but it certainly didn’t hurt. Kokichi pumped his finger in and out slowly, letting Shuuichi relax into his touch.

Kokichi gave a warm hum in response, running his free hand through Shuuichi’s hair. “You’re doing really well,” he encouraged, pulling out his finger and pressing two to his rim, looking up at the other boy to make sure he was okay to continue. With a nod from Shuuichi, he pushed both of his fingers in slowly and Shuuichi gripped at the bedsheets, the feeling becoming more foreign and edging on stinging. But Kokichi was sure to be careful, waiting for Shuuichi to relax before slowly repeating the process from before.

After adding a third finger and receiving a soft whimper from Shuuichi, Kokichi pressed soft kisses up the side of his neck, the vibrations of Shuuichi’s noises buzzing under his lips. “Good, so good,” Kokichi murmured between kisses, earning a little strangled noise from Shuuichi. “Do you think you’re ready?”

”Yes,” Shuuichi replied urgently, “Please.” Kokichi pulled out his fingers and reached for the lube again, spreading it generously on his cock. There was something so alluring about seeing Shuuichi beneath him, legs spread wide, flush creeping down his cheeks and onto his chest, the sharp movement of his breathing and hazy eyes that were so full of lust but so full of _something else_ that Kokichi had never seen before; he almost got carried away stroking himself, a moan bubbling up in his chest before realizing that he wasn’t just here to watch. Kokichi moved closer to Shuuichi, parting his legs further and lining up the head of his cock with his opening. Shuuichi was radiating nervous energy, but he met Kokichi’s eyes and gave a little nod, and then Kokichi was pushing into him.

 _”Ah, Kokichi-”_ Shuuichi gripped Kokichi’s shoulders, wincing a little at the stretch, but spreading his legs even wider, subconsciously holding in his breath until Kokichi’s hips met his own. He let out a sigh of relief, Kokichi’s nails digging into his hips, betraying his want to move but resisting the urge. Shuuichi took a moment to adjust, trying to get used to the feeling. It was foreign and strange but the feeling of being _full_ felt wonderful, and being joined in such a way with Kokichi made it all the better. Finally, Shuuichi softly pressed his lips to Kokichi’s and gave a little nod of permission.

”God, Shuuichi,” Kokichi groaned, rocking his hips shallowly, revelling in how tight Shuuichi was around him. “You feel so good. Look so _gorgeous.”_

Soon, the two fell into a steady rhythm, Kokichi thrusting into him in earnest and Shuuichi meeting him with a roll of his hips, Shuuichi moaning out because he hadn’t realized that this could even feel this good, that _anything_ could feel like this. Without thinking, Shuuichi pulled Kokichi close to his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around him, lust and desire and a burning, aching need to be close overcoming him entirely, taking him over and making him surrender completely to his instincts. The universe fell away around them, leaving the two of them to each other, to this closeness and longing and the necessity to kiss, to touch, to convey everything they felt through this one, singular moment where they were both joined in this way.

”Kokichi, I’m… _Ah,_ I’m close…” Shuuichi groaned, Kokichi picking up his pace and slamming into the other with as much vigor as he could muster.

”God, _fuck,_ Shuuichi, I--”

Shuuichi’s orgasm hit him like a ton of bricks, a moan ripping its way from his throat, a mantra of Kokichi’s name escaping his lips like a prayer, sending Kokichi over the edge after a few more thrusts, spilling into the boy with a cry of his name.

After the two had come down from their orgasms, Kokichi pulled out slowly and Shuuichi couldn’t help but shiver at the strange feeling of emptiness, collapsing down on the pillows in exhaustion. Kokichi kissed him, unable to keep the smile off of his face, leaving momentarily to grab a washcloth to clean them both up.

After the two were clean enough to make it through the night, the two laid next to each other, arms and legs intertwined and Kokichi’s head pressed snugly into his chest. Their breathing moved in tandem, Shuuichi running a hand through Kokichi’s hair and down the length of his spine. Moonlight streamed in from the window, casting silvery shapes on the walls.

Kokichi moved to look up at Shuuichi, a sleepy smile spreading across his face. “Hey, Shuuichi, I know we just met, but…” Kokichi paused, running a hand up to rest on Shuuichi’s chest. His heart was beating firm and steady under Kokichi’s small palm, and Kokichi examined it intensely, as though trying to memorize the way it beat where it was set in his ribcage, like the melody to a song or the words to a poem.

”I think I’m in love with you.”


	7. Wilson (Expensive Mistake)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuuichi and Kokichi settle in.  
> Familiar faces meet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a hot minute but I finally got my inspiration back and I really want to finish this out. I'm not sure how many people are still reading but I'm hoping to end this at around ten chapters, though I'm not certain if I want to include an Epilogue. Regardless, I've finally got a plot ball rolling so it should only take off from here. I also decided to rename the chapters after the new Mania album because honestly... It fits them incredibly well.

The next few weeks were like a dream. Shuuichi would awake each morning to Kokichi nestled into his side, so close that he could feel the smaller boy’s gentle heartbeat beating in tune with his own. The intimacy was a warm welcome, so unlike his own lonely bed that he had left behind in his apartment. A part of him hoped that he wouldn’t have to sleep alone again, and at the rate things were going, that hope might become a reality.

Shuuichi had basically gotten Kokichi’s morning routine down to a T. Kokichi wasn’t a morning person, not by a long shot. He would groggily stir from his sleep and Saihara would press kisses to his head, which only made the smaller boy grip him more tightly and bury his face in Shuuichi’s chest. It was adorable, but only convenient on days where neither of them had to get up. Shuuichi would be the first to get up from bed-- much to Kokichi’s dismay-- and he’d shower amongst Kokichi’s massive amount of skin and hair care products. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to tell one apart from the other, so he plays the game of trying a new one each time he showered. It may not be the best for his body chemistry, but it was a fun adventure seeing how his hair would turn out later.

By the time Shuuichi was clean and dressed, Kokichi would be seated in the small kitchen with two cups of coffee made for them; his full to the brim with copious amounts of cream and sugar, and Shuuichi’s with considerably less of both ingredients. Kokichi would grumpily sip from his cup and complain about whatever class or shift he had that day and Saihara would simply nod and let the boy talk while trying to keep the fond smile off his face.

Shuuichi always left before Kokichi in any case, and oftentimes before he left this would lead to one of two paths; the two would embrace at the doorway and Kokichi would dramatically stand up on his toes to chastely kiss the taller boy, or he would try to slip a hand down Shuuichi’s pants with a sly smile and be met with a very conflicted Shuuichi. He would argue that he had just showered, that these were clean clothes, and Kokichi would shoot right back that he’d be more than happy to use his mouth instead, to “clean up the mess”. Shuuichi blamed the fact that whatever this was, they were in their “honeymoon phase” and reasoned that this wouldn’t last forever. But having Kokichi’s mouth on him and the soft locks beneath his fingers made a tiny part of him wish it would.

As days went on, Shuuichi learned about Kokichi. About his distant parents’ wealthy lifestyle. About graduating Secondary School at the top of his class, ever the good student. How he had begun camming as a hobby. About how he wanted to contribute to the political system. Even when he wasn’t learning the big details, he was learning something small about him every day. How he always preferred to sleep on the right side of the bed. Or how his hands would play with the hem of his shirt when they were bored. Kokichi had a preference for fruits over vegetables and couldn’t sit through a cheesy rom-com to save his life. He loved when Shuuichi would casually wrap his arms around him from behind while he was doing dishes or applying makeup in the mirror before a stream. He loved having his chest touched lightly through the fabric of his shirt, and he liked to feel Shuuichi rut against him in retaliation. He especially loved being bent over the kitchen counter and fucked deep and slow, loved the way Shuuichi held his hips down against the cold stone countertop. Admittedly, Shuuichi knew almost everything about the more intimate parts of him. The Kichi he had known months ago-- the one who had become sort of like an idol, an untouchable being-- had faded and blurred into everything that was Kokichi, and Shuuichi couldn’t stress enough that the camera didn’t do him justice at all.

The domesticity of it all had been more than overwhelming at first. Shuuichi had never been one to easily adjust to change, but the more time he spent in Kokichi’s company, the more he adored the boy and the bond that they shared. Shuuichi had never been close with his family-- before or after he moved for university-- and having somebody stable to share meals with and greet him when he came through the door was unfamiliar but comforting.

”What are we?” Shuuichi had asked during an evening in Kokichi’s living room. They had been watching some movie that they were only half-heartedly paying attention to, as the two of them had been too focused on pressing themselves as close together as they could get as though they had been intending to fuse together completely. Kokichi looked up at him from where he had been straddling him, pressing open-mouthed kisses to Shuuichi’s neck, which was still recovering from an onslaught of dark love bites from their last few encounters. Their sex life was undoubtedly more active than most; in fact, any time they ended up back at Kokichi’s apartment together it almost certainly ended in Shuuichi fucking the other boys brains out. Kokichi still had his streaming to keep him satisfied, but in the end he had found himself craving the touch of the other boy, whether it was a round of tender lovemaking or a lust-crazed romp after a strenuous day of classes. Despite all of this domesticity and sexual activity, however, they had never placed a name on their little union.

”What do you want to be?” Kokichi asked, nuzzling up under Shuuichi’s jaw. Shuuichi cupped the other boys face in both of his hands, bringing him up to eye-level.

”I want to be your boyfriend,” Shuuichi admitted boldly, the obvious surprise shining in Kokichi’s eyes.

”Are you sure?” Kokichi sounded breathless but sturdy, allowing himself to sink into the warmth of the other boys touch. “I’ve never actually… Done _this_ before.”

”More than sure,” Shuuichi supplied with a shy smile, “I would like to be with you, if you’ll let me.”

Kokichi smiled a broad grin, more genuinely radiant than any Shuuichi had ever seen before, and leaned forward to press their lips together in a tender kiss, nearly drawing all the air out of Shuuichi’s lungs with the simple kiss alone. When Kokichi pulled back, he was misty-eyed. Shuuichi’s heart thumped like a hammer in his chest, brimming with genuine adoration for the boy before him.

”I would like that,” Kokichi finally replied, “That means you’re my boyfriend now, right?”

Shuuichi nodded his affirmation and let his hands wander to snake around the smaller boys frame, rubbing soothing circles into the tense muscles of his back. Kokichi sighed and leaned into the touch, letting his head fall onto Shuuichi’s shoulders.

”My boyfriend… My Shuuichi,” Kokichi nearly whispered, giddy despite the softness of his voice. It set Shuuichi’s nerves on fire, hearing his name spoken so reverently. Shuuichi kissed into his hair, feeling Kokichi’s deft fingers running down his chest and down further, past his navel to skirt his fingers over the most sensitive parts of his thighs. He couldn’t miss the smirk that grew on Kokichi’s face as he littered kisses on his new boyfriend’s shoulders. “I’m all yours.”

Something in those words broke down any reservations Shuuichi had had about returning the teasing touches. Suffice to say the two didn’t even make it to the bed.

* * *

”So, how’s it going with your new boyfriend?” Kaede had invited Shuuichi out to lunch with her during their work breaks, insisting they had barely seen each other lately. Shuuichi was never known for having tons of friends or being the most sociable person, but for all intents and purposes Kaede was his closest friend. It was partially true, as Shuuichi had been working less hours due to the upcoming stress of finals. While he had been tripping over himself trying to prepare, Kokichi couldn’t seem less worried. He had been focusing so little on his own studying that he had provided more than enough “incentive” for Shuuichi to forget his stress, which was more than welcomed.

”Very well,” Shuuichi couldn’t help smiling a little, “We’ve been official for a little over a month now and I’m actually planning on moving in with him in the next few weeks.”

Kaede couldn’t have possibly looked more excited, nearly bouncing in her seat to contain herself. “That was so quick! I’m so happy for you! He must be ‘the one’, huh?” The genuine joy on her face was enough to make Shuuichi nearly giddy in return. “When am I finally gonna get to meet him? I don’t know anything about him at all!”

”Hopefully we can arrange something soon--”

”Oh, I know!” Kaede interrupted, reaching into her bag and shuffling around the contents, pulling out a little black book from inside. A planner. “I have a concert I’m performing at coming up next week! It’s not too far from here. You should bring him so that I can meet him! A whole bunch of people are going to be there, it’s like the perfect ambiance, too!”

Shuuichi knew the moment that Kaede posed the invitation with such vigor there was no way on Earth he was going to be able to refuse. So he accepted, writing down the address and time on his phone. He couldn’t help the nervousness boiling up in his stomach over finally showing off his new boyfriend, but he squashed it down easily. He loved Kokichi, and he was sure that Kaede would, too.

* * *

”Wow, this place is _cool!”_ Kokichi let out a whistle upon making it to the interior of the concert hall, eyes lighting up with childish glee. “It’s like a palace!” Shuuichi couldn’t keep a fond chuckle from escaping at the sight of his boyfriend, staring at the high ceilings and glass chandeliers. Kaede was a reputable pianist, after all; not just any venue would host such strong up-and-coming talent. The hall itself was more like a large, club-like lounge with a large, circular stage stationed at the very center. The melodic sound of a grand piano rang out amongst the idle chatter that simmered in the air, though the player currently on-stage wasn’t one that Shuuichi recognized. _Kaede must be playing later._

”Would my prince like a drink?” Kokichi quipped, a sly smile working its way onto the shorter boys face as he nodded toward the large bar at the other end of the room.

”If anyone looks princely it’s you,” Shuuichi responded bashfully. He wasn’t wrong. Shuuichi felt bland in his button-up and slacks compared to Kokichi. He had decided on a frilly, soft-looking dress shirt that bordered on an elegant femme look, paired with a dark jacket and matching high-waisted slacks. That coupled with the loose curls he had methodically worked into his thick hair, the simplistic jewelled necklace fastened around his neck, and the dark mascara he had decided to apply made him look like something straight out of a fairy tail. Kokichi had been experimenting with the whole androgynous look and it suited him in a way that made Shuuichi’s skin flush if he looked at him for too long.

”Keep it in your pants until we get home, at least,” Kokichi whispered smugly, forcing Shuuichi out of his stupor. He hadn’t even realized he had been staring. Shuuichi realized he hadn’t even answered the original question but found he didn’t need to, as Kokichi was already pulling him in the direction of the bar.

”Shuuichi! There you are!” Shuuichi turned to find Kaede walking toward him, raising her hand and waving in greeting. She looked beautiful in her dark gown, perfect for a performance. She had always been radiant but seeing the way she lit up the room made Shuuichi smile and return the gesture. She made her way over to him, flanked by two other strangers done up in similarly elegant attire. One had deep, dark hair that framed her piercing eyes, expression reading cold but not unkind. The other was a tall man, hair sticking up in a way that couldn’t be natural. He wore a lax smile on his face, hands shoved in the pockets of his pants nonchalantly.

”It’s so good to see you!” Kaede gushed, “I was hoping you would show up!” The man next to her cleared his throat as though commanding Kaede’s attention and she turned to him, then to Saihara, then back to him again. “Oh!” Kaede acknowledged, “This is Shuuichi Saihara. Shuuichi, these are two of my friends from Secondary School. This is Momota,” she gestured to the tall man, who extended his hand in greeting.

”Nice to meet ya!” He grinned, shaking Shuuichi’s hand with more intensity than he had been expecting.

”Likewise,” Shuuichi responded, giving a shy smile in return.

”And this is Harukawa,” Kaede reached out and gripped the girl’s hand in her own, “My date for tonight!”

Shuuichi must have been shocked, if Harukawa’s sudden flush and Kaede’s overjoyed expression was anything to go by. “I didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

”It’s kinda a new thing,” Kaede replied sheepishly, “I’ve known her for a long time but the whole dating thing is recent.” Harukawa didn’t say anything but nodded at Shuuichi, who politely nodded back. Odd.

”So where’s your boyfriend? Did he not come tonight?”

”What? He’s--” Shuuichi cut himself off, realizing that Kokichi had indeed escaped his grip and had probably continued off the the bar. “I think he’s grabbing drinks. But he’s here.”

”I see! Well, hopefully we can--” Kaede was cut off by the sound of glass shattering. Shuuichi nearly jumped out of his own skin, turning to where the sound had come from.

There stood Kokichi, two shattered crystalline glasses on the floor before him, liquor spreading out onto the hardwood flooring in puddles.

Shuuichi rushed over immediately, taking Kokichi’s hand in his own and tugging him away from the shards on the floor, which a worker was already making his way over to clean. “Hey, are you okay?” Shuuichi asked lowly. Kokichi looked like a deer caught in the headlights, his skin pale and shaking slightly in Shuuichi’s grip. “Kokichi, what’s--”

”Ouma? Ouma Kokichi?” It was Kaede who interrupted, sounding shocked. Her other two companions looked equally as baffled.

”Kokichi, do you know them?” Shuuichi asked, only receiving a tight grip on his hand in response.

”We went to Secondary School together,” It was Momota who spoke up, a hint of something he couldn’t place in his voice, “We know each other _very well.”_

There was something sardonic in the way Momota looked at his boyfriend, and he could practically feel Kokichi flinch next to him. Kaede seemed lost for words and Harukawa’s gaze remained unbroken, staring at Kokichi as though he were a target about to be shot. Shuuichi cleared his throat uncomfortably, bringing Kokichi over to the little group of them.

”Ah, I see. Then I guess I can skip introductions. This is my boyfriend,” Shuuichi said simply, very aware of the tension crackling between the four old companions. “I didn’t think you would know him.”

”Yeah, we know him,” Kaede said carefully, “I didn’t think you would be dating him.” The comment hadn’t meant to have bite to it but Shuuichi could feel Kokichi’s anxiety in the claminess of his hand in his own, the incessant tap of his foot.

An awkward silence stretched out between them, and finally the sound of piano music drifted out of the air and the crowd around them clapped as the current performer took a bow.

”Oh, it’s my slot now,” Kaede perked up a bit, snapping them out of their weird exchange. “I’m gonna go head up to the stage! It was nice to see you Shuuichi,” she paused looking to Kokichi, “And you, as well.” It came out awkward, a little too sharp around the edges, but without another word Kaede and Harukawa turned and headed toward the center of the room, Momota only pausing another moment to toss a long glance in Kokichi’s direction before following behind them.

”So… What was that all about?” Shuuichi asked after a moment, aware of the way Kokichi was still fidgeting next to him. At his words Kokichi seemed to compose himself, flashing a smile.

”What do you mean? Just old classmates seeing each other again!” Shuuichi noticed his expression. It was the same expression he wore when he was streaming, when he was in a conversation with a customer at work. Fake.

”You’re lying,” Shuuichi said bluntly, vaguely aware of the piano starting up again in the background. “Why are you lying?”

Kokichi dramatically clutched his hands over his chest, feigning hurt. “Me? I would never lie to you!” There was a hint of playfulness in his tone but his eyes were a dead giveaway. Shuuichi may not be an investigator yet, but he knew tell-signs. And Kokichi knew that.

”I know we came all the way out here, but I’m not feeling so well,” Kokichi continued, expression immediately morphing into something painful, “I think I’m gonna head back home.”

”Kokichi, we just got here--”

”I know,” Kokichi replied guiltily, “I know, but I… I really don’t think I’m well enough to be here. Don’t wanna get everyone sick! You can stay if you want.”

Kokichi turned on his heel and was already walking toward the exit, pace brisk as he wove his way through the other attendees. Naturally, Shuuichi followed after him, glancing back toward where Kaede was performing center-stage. He could have sworn she looked at him as he made his way out after Kokichi, but Shuuichi was already too far away to tell for sure.

”Kokichi, wait,” Shuuichi called out after the other boy, finally picking up his pace to meet up with the other boy. “What’s going on?”

”I told you, I’m sick,” Kokichi snapped a little too roughly, hands coming to hug around his stomach, “I’m not feeling well.”

Shuuichi had never seen him behave like this. The dramatics were a bit of a stretch, even for someone as lively as him. He certainly looked sick-- all pale skin and shaking hands-- but Kokichi had been right as rain before they had arrived.

”Okay,” Shuuichi said resignedly, keeping his distance as the two made their way to the bus stop to ride home, spending the drive in uncomfortable silence. Kokichi sat at a comfortable distance from Shuuichi, eyes trained on the floor like a kicked puppy. Shuuichi made no move to comfort him and simply sat, unsure what to do in this situation. The drive didn’t take long and before he knew it, the two had made it back to the apartment.

”I’m going to bed,” Kokichi muttered, not even bothering to say goodnight before disappearing into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. _He never went to sleep without a goodnight._

Shuuichi sighed and made his way through the living room and through the sliding door out to the tiny, compact porch that hung off the side of the building. It gave a fairly pretty view of the neighborhood, of the lights illuminated in the windows. The night was still young after all. Hesitantly, Shuuichi drew his phone from his pocket and looked up Kaede’s number. He was sure she was done playing for now. He could call her and ask what had happened. It would be simple-- it was obvious Kokichi was hiding something, and it all started when Kaede recognized him.

Shuuichi took a deep breath and dialed Kaede’s number, hoping that she wasn’t still busy.

 _”Hello? Shuuichi?”_ Kaede’s voice came in through the receiver on only the second ring.

”Kaede, I need to ask you something.”


	8. Champion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kokichi's past is a rocky one.  
> Shuuichi does some (unfortunate) sleuthing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in a 24-hour-span, how wild. I'm really hoping to round up this fic soon, since I really want to see it through and I've cemented out the actual plot. This is a big chunk of the actual plot relevance in this chapter, I'd call it part one of the climax of this story. Remember when this was a baseless PWP story with no angst content? Yeah, me too.
> 
> CONTENT WARNING: I've added new tags, but this chapter does contain talk of death, suicide attempts, violence, hinted abuse, rumors of teacher/student relations, and exchanging sexual favors for pay.

_”We didn’t mean to act so strange but… I never expected you to be dating him,”_ Kaede admitted. _”It was just a shock that someone like you would end up with someone like him.”_

”What do you mean, ‘someone like him?’” Shuuichi asked, unable to keep the defensive tone out of his voice. This was Kokichi they were talking about, after all. “Why did everyone tense up when he showed up?”

Kaede paused, taking a deep breath. _”Hold on, let me go outside.”_ Shuuichi felt bad for pulling her from the concert, but his curiosity far outweighed his reservations on it. He could hear voices-- one that he assumed was Harukawa based on the proximity-- and rushed mumbling. A few moment later, the noise stopped. _”Okay, I’m somewhere more private. Now, about Ouma. You didn’t know him in Secondary School.”_

”What happened? What did he do?” Shuuichi couldn’t help the anxiety in his voice, biting on his thumbnail out of habit.

_”More like what_ didn’t _he do,”_ Kaede sighed. _”He was… A weird guy. He was fine when we first started. He didn’t really talk to anyone but he got along with everyone just fine. Then… I don’t know,”_ Kaede paused for a moment, as if hesitating, _”Some kind of freak accident happened when we were… Sixteen? Both of his parents died--”_

Shuuichi’s breath caught in his throat. “N-No, I don’t think that’s right,” Shuuichi stuttered, “Kokichi told me his parents are alive, they just live really far away. They send him money and everything.”

_”No, no, I remember!”_ Kaede interjected, _”The school held some big charitable donation thing for it. Not that he needed it much. I heard his parents were loaded. Not very nice people, though.”_

Shuuichi wasn’t sure when he started pacing, but his feet were moving without his permission. “Okay,” he breathed out slowly, “What else?”

_”Well, after all that, something… Happened to him, I think. I mean, I get it with his parents having died and all, but like something made him change. He was usually pretty reserved but he just became… Mean. Overconfident. He would go out of his way to make unnecessary comments toward people for no reason. It really made him pretty unpopular. There were a lot of rumors about him, too. What was weird was that he never really denied them. But he also never told the same story more than once. People would say that he killed them for the inheritance or something, and he would just respond with some kind of yes and tell everyone different ways he did it. Poison in the food, cutting brake wires... That was stupid though, no one believed that…”_ Kaede paused for a moment, as if collecting her thoughts, _”But people avoided him, too. For other rumors. There were rumors that he joined a gang, that he had some kind of criminal record. He lived alone from what everyone knew, so it was possible. That scared people pretty bad.”_

Shuuichi tried to imagine Kokichi-- small as he was, all smiles and jokes-- in a gang. It was almost impossible to fathom the idea.

_”There were also people saying that he was doing drugs or something. I don’t know where that came from, but I think it’s because he started looking really sick and his grades dropped. He almost flunked out of school. He was really small, too. He still is I guess, but he looked a lot worse then.”_

The image of a small, sad-looking Kokichi made Shuuichi’s heart clench. “But those were all rumors, even if Kokichi went along with them. How do you even know if any of it was true?”

Kaede hesitated on the other line. _”There was one rumor that turned out to be true,”_ she said it quietly, like a secret, _”A rumor started that he was sleeping with people for money. Or, ‘favors,’ I guess. Someone said he slept with a teacher.”_

Shuuichi’s blood ran cold, the chill of the outside air suddenly hitting him like a blizzard. _He wouldn’t do that, would he?_ Kokichi did camwork, sure, but that was on his own terms. And he was an adult, not a child.

_”I don’t know if he did anything with a teacher,_ Kaede continued, _”But he was caught… Doing things with another student in the locker rooms. Not that it would have been that big of a deal, teenagers and all, but he was… Doing that with someone who had a girlfriend. It caused a big mess. The real problem is that the guy said he was paying him for it, that Ouma offered it to him after gym class. Ouma didn’t even deny it. It should have gotten him expelled, but he got out of it somehow. That’s when everyone insisted he slept with the principal. But he did something he probably shouldn’t have after that. He said some names of people who took him up on his ‘services’. It basically caused a student-body war. One of the girls he said did it was Momota’s girlfriend. I’m not sure if it was true or just something to rile him up. Momota didn’t like him already because of the way Ouma messed with him in classes, but that really did it.”_

That explained the coldness from Momota.

_”His girlfriend at the time insisted it was a lie. Momota got really angry and cornered Ouma about it. Ouma prodded at him a little too much and Momota beat the hell out of him. He was always overly-confident in himself, even when he couldn’t win. Almost got Momota expelled, too. Ouma was out of school in the hospital for days but when he came back it was like nothing even happened. Things rolled off his shoulders like it was nothing. Or everyone thought so, at least.”_

”What do you mean by that?” Shuuichi asked, a dull ache beginning to throb in his head.

Kaede’s breath was shaky on the other end. There was a long stretch of silence between them, like any words would suddenly snap this tension coil between them. _”He tried to jump from the top of the school building.”_

”What?”

_”He climbed on the roof during school hours and threatened to jump. The police had to basically carry him down, he wouldn’t stop kicking and yelling. Everyone said he wasn’t really going to do it, that he did it for attention. But it still made it in the papers and stuff. And then he just… Disappeared. He didn’t come back and no one really saw him anywhere. As far as everyone was aware, he was in jail or dead or something. That’s all I really know on the matter, but I know there was other stuff, too.”_

Shuuichi could feel himself shivering, not just from the temperature on the balcony. This was too overwhelming, too much for him to process all at once. Kokichi hadn’t come off with that impression at all. It had been years since secondary school, sure, but his actions weren’t what bother Shuuichi. Kokichi had said that his parents were distant. He said he graduated top of his class. He wove a fabricated story for him specifically and Shuuichi just wanted to know _why._ There was the possibility Kaede was lying, but judging by the tension in the room earlier the four of them certainly shared a past.

_”I’m sorry, Shuuichi,”_ Shuuichi could picture her look of pity and it made him sick. He didn’t want her pity. He didn’t want anything except answers, but he was certain that Kokichi wasn’t going to want to talk about any of this tonight.

”It’s alright. Thank you, Kaede. I won’t keep you any longer. I hope you have a good evening.”

_”You too, Shuuichi.”_

The phone went dead on the other end of the line and Shuuichi sighed, pocketing his phone and leaning on the cool metal grate of the balcony, barring him from falling to the ground below. _Is this what he must have felt like? Looking down at the ground like this? Did he even have any intention to jump?_ Shuuichi couldn’t wrap his head around this. There was no proof that any of this had happened, and yet...

There was no point straining over it tonight. Shuuichi went back in through the door and made his way into him and Kokichi’s room-- despite his stress, the thought that this was a room they shared made him feel warm inside-- careful to be quiet as he slipped beneath the covers in the already-dark room. He could hear Kokichi breathing softly next to him, curled up into a little ball with the covers clenched tautly in his hands.

_Would he really have lied to me?_ Shuuichi couldn’t fight off the thought, thinking about Kokichi with his bright smiles and big eyes and small hand intertwined with his own. _Was this all fake?_ He had rushed into this relationship. He had run in headfirst with nothing to go off of except for Kokichi’s surface-layer personality, even if he had reasoned that he had learned more over time. But what is two months to twenty years of life? What was a couple of intimate moments to every other moment leading up to it?

Shuuichi found himself staring at the ceiling. Just like back home. Constellations. Images, perceived by the brain into shape. Into stories. Pictures that in the grand scheme of things meant nothing at all. No one could see the same thing, reasonably. There could be a million different ideas that came to mind with a simple blob and bumps worked into the textured ceiling.

He turned to look at Kokichi again, looking restless even in his sleep. He looked so small. Helpless, even. Had anyone else seen him this way? From what Kaede said he was always big talk and boisterous appearances; cocky and self-assured. Had Kokichi hid this side of himself, or did no one seem to notice? Had Shuuichi even seen his true colors, yet?

Who was he, really?

* * *

When Shuuichi awoke, Kokichi was gone from next to him. A look at the clock notified Shuuichi it was already past 10. Good thing he didn’t have school or work today. He roused himself from the warm bed and dragged his way through the apartment, searching for any sign that the other boy was still here. The smell of coffee was wafting from the kitchen, and Shuuichi decided to follow that. Further inspection revealed that Kokichi wasn’t in the kitchen, but a note was left on the counter. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Shuuichi picked it up.

_  
_

_I’m sorry about last night. I’m feeling a lot better today. Ran to do some errands. Be back soon. Love, Kokichi._

Shuuichi sighed and placed the note back on the counter, deciding that a brief note was better than nothing.

After a quick shower and change into comfortable clothes, Shuuichi decided he may as well get some work done before Kokichi returned. He was planning on having a conversation with him about last night, about what Kaede had told him. It gave him an excuse to keep his mind off of it before the storm that was sure to follow.

Shuuichi had settled himself on their shared bed, paperwork strewn about across the comforter. This class had been really heavy work-wise, and between Kokichi’s incessant-- but very welcome-- distractions and the amount of other classwork he had, he found himself much further behind than he had intended to be. His brows furrowed at a line of text on the document he was working on, tapping his pencil against the side of the binder it was perched on in frustration. _Had they even gone over this? Or was he too busy daydreaming to notice?_ His grip slipped on the utensil he was holding, dropping it off the side of the bed just out of his reach. With an audible groan, Shuuichi stood up from his spot and bent down to pick it up from where it had rolled under the bed, stopping when his hand blindly came in contact with something that was much bigger than a pencil. Curiously, he found his grip on it and pulled it out from its hiding place.

It was a box. A simple, run of the mill cardboard box. Shuuichi shook it slightly, the telltale sound of paper rustling and something heavier beating around at the bottom.

_Don’t open it,_ his brain cautioned, _This is Kokichi’s. It’s not polite to go through his things._ Shuuichi prepared to slide the box back under the bed, leave it unopened and return to his work, but Kaede’s words were echoing in his head again and the detective in him screamed at him to take the plunge, to see if there really was something of significance in there. Chances are that he wouldn’t find anything interesting, but then what would be the harm in finding something unassuming?

Guilt weighed heavy on his shoulders, but Shuuichi popped the lid off of the box with baited breath, revealing the contents inside.

As expected, it had paperwork in it. With shaking hands, Shuuichi picked up the pages and set them aside, finding a few thin books at the bottom. The first was a photo album. Cautiously, Shuuichi picked it up from where it was hidden and opened the front cover. Immediately, a scrap of paper floated out to the floor beneath him. It was a newspaper clipping from a local newspaper. Shuuichi grabbed it and felt nausea immediate flood his stomach.

_”Local Medical Supply Company CEO Found Dead In Subway Accident,”_ the headline read in big letters. It was dated July 24th, 2015. There was a picture printed below it of a Tokyo subway, completely derailed and on its side. Citizens were scrambling, fire engines and police cars bordering the metal walls of the wrecked subway car. Shuuichi remembered when this happened. He had grown up in Yokohama himself, where subways malfunctioned all the time. But never like this. It had blown up on the news within hours. Shaking himself from his thoughts, he continued to read. _”Local CareaMed CEO Ouma Kazuhiro (age 42) was found among the twenty-seven dead in the Kasuga Station crash along with his wife, Ouma Momoka (age 37). Forensic investigators have confirmed that many victims died upon impact, while the small amount that added to the death toll died in transit to the hospital. Seventeen victims are still left harshly wounded. The cause of the crash…”_

Shuuichi stopped, hearing his heartbeat thrumming in his ears. His parents were dead. Kokichi had lied about that much. Shuuichi turned his attention back to the photo album, tucking the clipping safely back in the front of the book. It seemed to be family photos; a man and a woman at first, holding hands along a beach or enjoying street food together. They were young, almost blindingly happy in every photo. The woman had familiar dark eyes that unmistakably reminded him of Kokichi. These must have been his parents. As Shuuichi continued-- past graduation photos and family gatherings, past wedding gowns and bright photographs-- he stopped on a page about halfway through. It was the woman-- presumably Momoka-- smiling up at the camera. Her belly was swollen, obviously with child, hands resting gently above the small bump. It must have been when she was pregnant-- more than likely with Kokichi. A few pages later he confirmed his hunch, as a picture of Momoka in a hospital bed was placed front-and-center. She was holding a tiny infant, dark hair peeking out from where the bundle was resting in her arms. She looked exhausted but glowing in the fluorescent hospital lighting.

The next few pages were a series of photos of a tiny Kokichi. His first steps, a birthday or two, his first day of primary school-- Shuuichi couldn’t stop his fond smile at seeing Kokichi, dressed in a tiny school uniform, grinning widely at the camera, bright-eyed and missing a tooth. It was like the epitome of childhood stirred up into one photo. As the pages continued on, however, something in them seemed to shift. Smiles grew less wide, more forced. His father stopped appearing in photos save for a stagnant, lifeless family photo every few pages. Kokichi grew more and more in each photo, and with it his demeanor changed, shrinking in on himself more and more as they went on. The final photo in the album was of Kokichi and his father. Kokichi couldn’t have been more than thirteen, standing up straight with perfect posture and hands clasped sturdily in front of him. There was no hint of a smile, simply a cold glance into the camera that made Shuuichi shiver. His father stood to his side, large hand clasping on his shoulder in a way that couldn’t have been natural. They were in front of some large, ornate fireplace, flames crackling away behind them. Kokichi looked visibly uncomfortable, like he would be shaking if the photo were more than just a still image. After that, the album was blank.

Placing the haunting album off to the side, Shuuichi dug in for the two remaining books at the bottom. He wanted to stop, to put this all away and return to his studying, but something was guiding him forward. So instead, he opened up the first hardback book. It was a yearbook. As he flipped through the yearbook, he paused on a page with the first-year students. Kaede’s face smiled up at him, blonde hair fastened into a beautiful braid behind her. She looked visibly younger- rounder in the cheeks, softer around the edges. Curiously, Shuuichi continued and managed to spot Momota and Harukawa, too. Then, Kokichi in turn. He looked like he had in the photos-- stiff and stern, a small, barely detectable smile. But he looked like he could blend into a crowd. Flipping to the back cover, Shuuichi could decipher the sloppy handwriting of a few end of the year messages. There weren’t many-- just a few sprinkled her and there-- but they all seemed to be kind. Shuuichi was shocked to find a simplistic message from Kaede in the lower left corner of the page. _If this is from his first year, the other must be his second. When Kaede said everything changed._

Shuuichi closed the yearbook and opened the other, flipping to where the second year photos were. It only took a moment to find the other boy. Shuuichi knew Kaede said he looked sick, but it was unlike what he’d imagined. Kokichi looked paler than normal, which was drastic considering how ghostly his skin was. His eyes were ringed with dark circles, betraying how exhausted he looked. His thin, wiry shoulders were hunched a little-- nothing like the strict posture he held in the photo album-- and the bagginess was evident in his clothing. It made Shuuichi’s heart hurt to look at. There was a grin on Kokichi’s face that conveyed something quizzical that Shuuichi couldn’t understand. _Kaede wasn’t joking._ How could anyone have let him look like that? Just the thinness of his frame alone set off alarm bells in Shuuichi’s head.

Shuuichi curiously flipped to the back, only to find crisp, blank pages. No messages or signatures. No farewell messages. Just empty pages. There were no other yearbooks, which meant either he hadn’t received them or he had stopped attending school. Something angry swelled up in his chest but he pushed it down, opting instead to close the yearbook and finally reach for the paperwork he had pulled out initially.

_December 2nd, 2014. Tosa Municipal City Hospital. Patient Name: Ouma Kokichi._

Shuuichi’s eyes scanned over the document in disbelief. Words registered in his brain as he read on, words like _”broken nose,”_ and _”popped blood vessel,”_ and _”excessive bleeding.”_ It must have been from the fight Kaede had told him about. Numbly, Shuuichi set the page down and picked up the next one; more medical records.

_February 17th, 2015. Tosa Municipal City Hospital. Patient Name: Ouma Kokichi._

The same sterile text as before with a different date. A headline from a local newspaper-- the same one that had covered the subway crash-- was paperclipped to the page. _”Suicide Attempt at Local Tosa School”_. The photo beneath it was the exterior of the school, surrounded by police cars. That meant that this report must have been--

”What are you doing.” Shuuichi jumped, turning to see Kokichi standing in the doorway. It was posed less as a question and more as an accusation, Kokichi’s eyes wide from under his bangs.

Silence stretched between them for what felt like years, agonizingly heavy with tension. Shuuichi wasn’t sure what to do, hands dropping the medical files but otherwise completely frozen in place. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to _do?_

”Kokichi, I--”

”Get out.” Kokichi’s voice was level, scarily hollow in its tone.

”Kokichi, please,” Shuuichi tried to reason, standing to his feet and making his way toward the smaller boy.

_”No,”_ Kokichi dodged out of his reach, backing himself up against the doorframe to avoid Shuuichi’s touch, “Don’t touch me.”

”Why did you lie to me?” Shuuichi asked, hands balling into fists at his sides, “Everything you said about yourself was fake. Why?”

”Why did you go through my stuff?” Kokichi shot back, “Why did you think you had a right to go snooping in things that don’t involve you?”

”Because you’re my boyfriend, _of course_ it involves me!” Shuuichi raised his voice and Kokichi flinched but stood firm.

”What does my past have to do with _you?_ You didn’t know me then, you know me now!”

”Do I?” Shuuichi retorted, “Do I know you now?”

”You live with me. You sleep in the same fucking bed with me every night, what do you mean, ‘Do you know me?’” Kokichi scoffed.

Shuuichi turned to the pile of items, withdrawing the newspaper clipping from the photo album and holding it up for Kokichi to see. “You said your parents lived far away. You said they sent you money. But they don’t. You lied about your parents and where the money comes from, and that was one of the _first_ things you told me. So what else have you been lying about?”

Kokichi’s face fell, gazing at the headline like it was a headstone. And in a way, it was. Angry, frustrated tears pooled in his eyes and he snatched it from the other boy, holding it tightly in his fist.

”Did they tell you? The people from last night?” Kokichi’s temper was becoming increasingly heated, “What did they tell you? Because I’d love to fucking hear what those assholes had to say.”

”They told me a lot of things,” Shuuichi replied curtly, “A lot of things that don’t line up with what you’ve told me.”

_”Get the fuck out,”_ Kokichi repeated, harsher this time, stomping off toward the hallway. Shuuichi followed after him, wanting to continue his interrogation, but stopped when he saw Kokichi holding the apartment door open for him. “I’m serious,” he said between gritted teeth. His rage was giving away to something else, something miserable and empty and Shuuichi could feel a stab of guilt at the expression. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks, breathing labored as he tried to maintain his composure. “Please, just leave.”

Shuuichi felt nauseous, and he wanted nothing more than to take Kokichi into his arms, to wipe away his tears and hold him until he felt alright again, but the anger and pride swirling in his head overpowered the idea. So instead, Shuuichi walked out the door, giving Kokichi one more glance before the door was shut and locked behind him.


	9. Sunshine Riptide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guilt offsets pride.  
> Amends are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe I'll finally finish this, who knows.

The next few days were like a blur. Shuuichi would wake up in his own bed-- his cold, lonely bed-- and go about a leisurely routine he hadn’t followed in months. The morning after Kokichi had kicked him out, he woke up to all of the stuff he had left at the apartment boxed up on his doorstep. It was like some kind of finality, like the last few months of his life had been some sort of fun fever dream that he just woke up from.

School was boring. Work was tedious. Nothing meant much anymore. Every small thing that reminded him of Kokichi-- a fellow student in a pale blue sweater, sugary drinks advertised on billboards, the scent of lavender as he passed by a shop on his way home-- made Shuuichi’s heart ache.

He was in the wrong. He knew that. He knew that he would be the moment he pulled out the box, the moment that he decided to invade someone else’s privacy, the moment that he saw Kokichi’s eyes widened in horror when he found Shuuichi in his room. As infuriated as the lies made him, he had no place to poke into Kokichi’s past. He should have brought it up casually, should have trusted Kokichi to say what he felt was right.

Three nights after the fight, Shuuichi dialed Kokichi’s number. The phone rang twice before sending him to voicemail. Not that he expected much else. The voicemail box prompted him to leave a message after the beep.

_Beep._

”Hello Kokichi,” he started lamely, searching for the right words to say, “I would really like to talk to you. Please call me back.” He hung up the phone and sighed, dragging his hands down his face and rubbing at his eyes until white spots appeared in his vision. How pathetic.

The next day at work, Kaede had come in late. She hurried in wearing a black turtleneck sweater; one that definitely didn’t belong in her pastel wardrobe. Shuuichi quirked an eyebrow at her, earning a flushed Kaede in response.

”I spent the night at Maki’s,” she said sheepishly, tugging the turtleneck a little bit higher up. Shuuichi couldn’t help but smile at that.

”Well I’m glad things are going well with her.” He hadn’t meant to sound envious, but it was a vain effort the moment the words left his lips. Kaede’s face fell, eyes casting down to the floor. She made her way over to where Shuuichi sat behind the reception desk, leaning forward on her elbows.

”I’m sorry,” she said. Shuuichi shrugged, gaze drifting down to the paperwork that he had been working on before her arrival. “Really, I am. I shouldn’t have told you all that. And I shouldn’t have treated him so judgmentally in the first place. I wish I had thought about it before I said everything.”

”It’s not your fault,” Shuuichi insisted, giving a forced, tight-lipped smile, “It’s okay.”

Kaede could obviously tell he was lying. She returned a similar look and headed down the hallway to her music room. Shuuichi sighed and returned to his work, trying hard not to think about this whole mess.

Shuuichi got off work at 7:00, rode the bus, and made it home by 7:45. Tonight was one of Kokichi’s scheduled stream nights. Shuuichi sat on his bed and stared at his laptop, stacking his morals up against his own emotions.

He was just going to check and make sure Kokichi was okay, there was nothing weird about that.

_Literally everything is weird about watching your kind-of-ex masturbate on the internet._

But he wasn’t there for the masturbation.

_What if he saw your username in the chatroom?_

He won’t notice.

_Don’t be stupid, Shuuichi._

Everything about the situation made Shuuichi want to scream, but instead he opened up his laptop and clicked the bookmarked video stream link, waiting for the screen to load.

Surprisingly, the camera wasn’t turned on. The entire chatroom was buzzing, wondering where the feed was. Shuuichi checked Kokichi’s profile and it didn’t even say he was online. It was strange, seeing as Kokichi almost always had the camera turned on at least ten minutes before a stream.

Time ticked by. Five minutes turned to ten turned to twenty, and about thirty minutes later when there was still no stream, just about all of the room’s occupants were gone. Shuuichi exited out of the window, anxiety bubbling in his gut. Kokichi never missed streams. This was unusual.

Shuuichi picked up his phone again, dialling the other boy’s number. _Please pick up._

It went straight to voicemail.

Without a second thought, Shuuichi was up and grabbing his coat, pulling it on as he rushed out the door. Kokichi may not want to see him, but he was willing to risk it to ensure Kokichi’s safety.

As the bus lolled on down the city streets, panic began to eat away at Shuuichi. Was Kokichi hurt? Did he do something to hurt himself? Was he even home? After learning about what had plagued Kokichi when he was younger, Shuuichi had been fearful that he was going to do something drastic. The mixture of the stream failing to start and the phone call was enough to leave Shuuichi almost shaking, wishing the damn bus would move faster.

A few moments later and the bus pulled up to its familiar stop, Shuuichi nearly tripping over his feet to get out and hit the pavement. He hadn’t realized he was even running until his heavy footfall started echoing down the nearly-empty streets. His legs burned but it beat the numbness in his trembling hands.

His breaths were coming out in pants as he climbed the stairs to Kokichi’s apartment, leaning up against the wall on the side of the door frame before knocking on the door.

There was no answer, so he knocked again.

The same silence.

Hesitantly, Shuuichi reached for the doorknob, experimentally twisting to see if Kokichi left it unlocked.

It must have been his lucky day, because the door swung straight open. _Was this breaking and entering? Was Kokichi going to report him to the police for coming in?_

Whatever. Kokichi’s safety was more important.

Cautiously, Shuuichi stepped into the familiar hallway and shut the door behind him, searching for any sign that Kokichi might be home. The lights were on but dimmed, so that was a good start. Just a few steps into the room flooded his senses with smell; something floral and light. Shuuichi immediately made his way toward the bathroom and was met with the same strong scent he had grown used to every time Kokichi took a bath. The scent was somehow calming despite the alarm prickling under Shuuichi’s skin.

”Kokichi?” he called out, hoping he hadn’t scared the other boy. There was no response, silence hanging thickly in the air. “Kokichi, please answer me. I know you’re in there. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

Silence.

Shuuichi exhaled a shaky breath, ready to turn on his heel and walk out, when a quiet voice sounded from inside the bathroom.

”Come in.”

Shuuichi nearly flung the door off its hinges in his haste, quickly closing the door behind him. The candles in the room had burnt out, leaving only the dimmed lights to illuminate the room. It gave the room a slightly eerie vibe but Shuuichi didn’t care to think about that too much, as all of his attention had turned to Kokichi, who was sitting in the water with his head pressed against the side of the tub. His damp hair was splayed out next to him, eyes trained to the wall in front of him.

Shuuichi made his way over to the tub, sitting down on the floor in front of it and pressing his back to the cold linoleum, leaning his head back on the rim to make eye contact with the other boy.

”Hey,” Shuuichi greeted, trying not to let his emotions overwhelm him before they could get somewhere.

Kokichi looked away, gazing at the wall opposite of Shuuichi’s gaze. “Hey.” His voice was raspy, like his throat had been scratched raw.

More silence.

”Kokichi, I’m sorry,” he said softly, “I shouldn’t have done what I did. I shouldn’t have gone through your things or gotten angry with you, I was stupid to betray your trust like that. I acted irrationally and I should have just talked to you about it. I’m so, so sorry.”

Kokichi looked at him finally, tired eyes dull in the dim lighting. It sent shivers up Shuuichi’s spine to see him like that; it was too similar to the picture in his second year yearbook. “Why do you care?”

”Because you’re special to me.”

Kokichi scoffed, letting his eyes slip shut. “You got what you wanted. I know you think I’m bad… So why did you come here?”

”I don’t think your bad--”

”Or dangerous. Or a slut. Or whatever. It doesn’t matter what word you use for it.” Kokichi’s voice was horribly monotone, so unlike his usual bouncy self that Shuuichi could hardly believe he was talking to the real Kokichi at all.

”I don’t think you’re any of those things, either,” Shuuichi replied, “Kokichi, you know I don’t care about what you did, right?”

Kokichi’s eyes opened at that, staring owlishly at the other boy. “You don’t?” His voice sounded small, like a child being scolded for disobeying a parent.

”Of course not. The past is the past. I was just upset that you lied. But that was no excuse for my actions. I am genuinely, sincerely sorry.” Kokichi seemed to relax a little at that. He let his eyes slip shut again, like he could barely keep himself awake. Shuuichi curiously felt the bathwater with his hand, suddenly realizing he couldn’t feel the heat on his back. He recoiled the moment his finger breached the surface. “Kokichi, this water is freezing. How long have you been in here?”

Kokichi shrugged but didn’t provide a more thorough answer. Sighing, Shuuichi shifted onto his knees and let a hand hover over Kokichi’s head, as if asking for permission for contact. When Kokichi didn’t flinch away, Shuuichi gently brushed a few damp strands of hair from the other boys face, feeling warmth ignite in his chest when Kokichi nuzzled into the touch.

”Do you want to get out of the tub?” Shuuichi asked. Kokichi shook his head and grabbed his knees with his hands. If there was one thing Shuuichi had learned about Kokichi since he had met him, it was that baths were comforting for him. Rolling up his sleeves, Shuuichi reached into the bottom of the tub and pulled out the plug, letting the cold water empty out down the drain. Kokichi shivered in the now-open air, but Shuuichi was quick to get the warm water running again. While the water was running, Shuuichi stood and went to the medicine cabinet, pulling a box of matches out from the top shelf. He re-lit the candles in the room, bathing everything in a soft golden glow. The sun had long since set in the sky and the moonlight shone in through the small, rectangular window high up above the tub, swirling on the water’s reflection like liquid metal. Once the tub was full, Shuuichi turned off the faucet and settled himself down on the seat of the toilet. It felt so much like the first time he had entered here; like the first time he had seen Kokichi bathing in the afterglow of his stream on a night not much unlike tonight. Except this time he looked so somber that it broke Shuuichi’s heart to think that he could ever look like this.

Kokichi looked up at him from under his bangs, looking like a cornered animal. Shuuichi wanted to hold him, tell him there was nothing to be afraid of, that things were going to be fixed. But instead he simply stared back, unsure what to say.

”Do you want to come in?” Kokichi asked in a small voice. Shuuichi was shocked-- he hadn’t been expecting Kokichi to extend a hand to him at all-- but stood up and stripped himself of his clothing anyway. Kokichi scooted forward from his spot against the lip of the tub and Shuuichi took his place, shivering when Kokichi rested his back up against his chest. The warmth of the water combined with the small boy pressed against him was enough to drain some of the tension from his body. Loosely, he wrapped his arms around Kokichi’s torso, trying hard to cut through the awkward air of the situation as silence stretched between them.

”I didn’t want you to know,” Kokichi started, “Because I was scared you would hate me.”

”I could never hate you,” Shuuichi muttered, nuzzling into Kokichi’s soft hair, “I just don’t understand why you went out of your way to lie.”

Kokichi hesitated for a moment. “To fill in the gaps, I guess. I thought maybe if I said it enough, I could believe it, too. It was everything I wanted to be in highschool-- happy, liked-- I figured maybe I could convince myself I had worth now. And with my parents...”

Kokichi was quiet again, as if lost in thought. “I don’t know. I feel like I have to lie. Like if I don’t, I’ll be trapped how I used to be. If I pretend it’s not real, it can’t hurt me.”

Shuuichi tightened his hold on Kokichi, resting his forehead on the area between his neck and shoulder. He wanted to kiss the skin there, kiss away the pain in the small boy’s heart and ease the brokeness from his fragile body. But a few kisses couldn’t do that. He had taken enough psychology classes to understand the ways he could and couldn’t help here.

”I understand,” Shuuichi sighed, “I can’t say I appreciate your lying. But I understand why you did.”

Shuuichi didn’t want to sit in silence, so instead he reached for the shampoo bottle on the edge of the tub and put a generous amount in his hands. He soothingly lathered it into the boy’s hair, the smell of eucalyptus soothing his frayed nerves. He made quick work of rinsing the suds from the boy’s plum locks, only to realize Kokichi was shaking in his arms, scrawny legs pulled up to his chest, muffled sniffles and whimpers spilling from the small boy.

”Kokichi, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

Shuuichi’s heart clenched painfully in his chest when Kokichi let out a guttural sob, body shaking so intensely with the effort of letting it out that a bit of water sloshed over the edge of the tub. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks, chest heaving with effort with each wrenching intake of breath; his heart was beating so hard that Shuuichi could feel it pounding away beneath his own quaking hands.

”I care about you so much,” Shuuichi soothed, rubbing small circles on the other boy’s chest, “I’m so proud of you. I’m proud of how far you’ve come.”

Kokichi _wailed_ at that, simply letting the overwhelming current of emotion wash through his from head to toe. It was like he was finally letting go; finally stripping down that emotional wall that had separated him from the world around him. Finally, _finally,_ Kokichi had released his white-knuckle grip on the reigns.

Shuuichi held him; even after the water turned cold, after the moon had risen high in the sky and the candles around them began to dim. Kokichi was more fragile and precious than a glass chandelier and Shuuichi had no intention of letting him go.

Kokichi had cried his throat raw, to the point where there were no tears left. His sobs had dissipated to soft whimpers, curled up tightly in Shuuichi’s arms. Shuuichi pressed gentle, lingering kisses to the fair skin of his shoulders, running his hands along the thin frame of his chest. Kokichi’s eyes were barely open, eyelids heavy with exhaustion and puffy from the onslaught of tears. Without saying a word, Shuuichi leaned forward and pulled the plug in the tub, letting the chilled water swirl down the drain. He quickly hopped out and toweled off, scooping Kokichi up in his arms and carrying him down the hall, clumsily kicking open the door and placing Kokichi down delicately on the mattress. Shuuichi hastily gathered up the comforter and walked to the hallway, throwing it in the dryer for a few minutes to warm up the material. It was a quick trick his mother had used on his when he had a hard time sleeping.

A few minutes later and he was bringing the fuzzy, warm blanket back into the room, covering Kokichi with it and revelling in the appreciative sigh he got in return. Shuuichi climbed in under the blanket next to him, the smaller boy curling up to him like a moth to a flame. Shuuichi’s heart felt so full in the moment, breathing in the sweet scent of Kokichi’s shampoo and drawing shapes on the skin of his back.

”Thank you,” Kokichi muttered, “I’m sorry for lying. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Shuuichi shushed him, pulling him closer to his chest. “I’m sorry for invading your privacy. I was selfish.”

”You were,” Kokichi sniffed back, “But I was, too.”

”I love you,” Shuuichi murmured sleepily, yawning despite himself. There was a lot to be discussed, but there was always tomorrow.

”I love you, too.”


End file.
